Broken Toy Soldier
by Draikinator
Summary: For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these- 'What might have been.' Kenny knows it's too late to speak up now, and he should have when he had the chance. Now he's stuck here in a prison he built himself, brick by brick, and smile by smile.
1. Need a Ride?

**Broken Toy Soldier**

_Little toy soldier, stand up straight._

_Little toy soldier, know your fate._

_Little toy soldier, shirt stained red,_

_Little toy soldier, fall down dead._

"_Hey, Kenny!" Kenny snapped his head up. He'd been sort of zoned out; playing the PSP__1__ he'd managed to snag back from Cartman once a new system had caught his eye. He was leaning against the wall of the school, because he didn't feel like going home just yet. When he'd left for school this morning, they'd been fighting pretty hard, and he really, really didn't want to be there until they were finished._

"_Mm? Kyle?" He asked, vaguely remembering Kyle and Stan having a conversation earlier about going to Raisins after school. So why was Kyle over here? Wasn't Raisins the other direction? Wait- his thoughts buzzed for a moment would they invite him? Really? They never did that. Would they?_

_Kyle looked like he was in a hurry, and took his backpack off. He started shuffling around inside of it. "I heard that today was your birthday! Why didn't you tell me?"Kyle grinned, and pulled a colourfully wrapped package out. Kenny eyed it warily, but with a vicious curiosity._

"_Uh, I didn't really think about it. My birthday's never been a big deal... I guess I forgot." He said, without taking his eyes off of the box. Kyle handed it to him._

"_Happy birthday Kenny! But I gotta go, so I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Kyle waved, and ran off the other direction. Kenny's face fell a little. They didn't want to invite him. Even on his birthday._

_Kenny turned the little package over in his hands, savoring the anticipation he so rarely experienced. _

_He ripped the paper off fervently, and tore open the flaps of the box. Pushing aside little bits of coloured paper that were keeping the box's contents from sliding around away, he looked at his little gift nestled among the wrappings._

_It was a little toy soldier, with a little plastic gun propped up against its shoulder._

_Kenny stared at it for a moment, wondering what possessed Kyle to give him something so weird for his birthday. Not that he was complaining about a gift by any means, but he was certainly perplexed by the strange choice. He shrugged, and picked it up in one hand. The little soldier's left hand shifted, and fell back into the box. Kenny just sighed._

_It was broken._

Kenny was leaning against a wall again. It was very similar to the wall he had been leaning against on his ninth birthday, seven years prior. It was attached to his school, it was brick, and it smelled like smoke and goth kids. But this was a wall attached to a high school instead of a middle school.

By staying in school, Kenny had surprised most of the people who knew him.2 His family was dirt poor and couldn't send him to college, and they were constantly drunk and so abusive they probably wouldn't send him even if they had the money. But of course, they didn't, so it was a moot point.

His sixteenth birthday had rolled around, and when he kept on coming to school, people raised a lot of eyebrows. He wasn't even that smart of a kid, Kenny was at best an average student. The likelihood of getting a scholarship could be considered by an optimist to be low at best. No, Kenny was expected to drop out and get a full-time job, seeing as his parents really wanted him out of the house by this time. Kevin had moved out awhile ago, and Kenny's sister Karen3 had been sent off to live with relatives several years ago. That had mostly been Kenny's idea. He hated to think of himself, the dirt-poor pervert Kenny, as soft, but he had honestly been really worried about his little sister. She was growing up in a poor, abusive family in a hick town in the mountains. Karen had always been pretty soft-spoken, and her needs were rarely met to the extent they should have been. Her older brother had been worried about what would happen to her mental state, and deep down, had actually been worried about her turning to prostitution. Rather than worry about that, had called in some old favors and had 'relatives' adopt her. Of course, upon explaining this situation to his parents and having them sign the adoption papers, they had been too wasted to remember they didn't _have_ relatives.

So the fact that Kenny was still here was an oddity no one really understood. His grades _had_ been improving since his birthday, though, so his teachers didn't feel the need to ask questions, and Kenny's friends never really cared.

"Hey, Kenny!" Kenny was jerked out of his thoughts by the call of his name, and looked towards the source of the voice. It was his friend Kyle whom he'd known since they were in preschool.

"Hey Kyle!" Kenny said brightly, standing up.

"You ready to go?"

Kenny nodded, "Thanks for the ride. Now if I could afford a car, I wouldn't have to make you drive me everywhere!" He laughed, scratching the back of his head.

"That's okay Kenny. I have to give Stan a ride anyway since he got his license taken away _again_," Kyle interrupted himself with an over-exaggerated roll of the eyes, "and carpooling is good for the environment."

Kenny's lips twitched, "You're not turning into some crazy eco-friendly bastard, are you?"

"No way," Kyle said, turning back towards his car, "But it keeps the manbearpigs4 away." They both burst out laughing, and Kenny felt his heart warm up a little bit.

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Draik: Viola! Stupid ensues!

Kenny: I'll say. I didn't get ANY porn for the ENTIRE chapter.

Draik: Oh, like you need any more you pervert.

Kyle: What the hell was this chapter about, anyway? Nothing even happened.

Kenny: And why the hell does Kyle give such shitty ass presents?

Draik: *twitch* It's this little thing called _plot._ I'm setting up the _plot._ All will become clear! *dramatic pose*

Kenny: …Riiiiiight, so seriously, what's going on?

Draik: If I told you guys everything, why would anyone read it? Kyle and his shitty ass presents shall be explained in later chapters, should I chose to write them!

Kyle: You might not finish? What?

Stan: But I wanna be in the story, godammit!

Draik: Shut the hell up you idiots! I'll probably write a couple more chapters, but I'm a really lazy person with a really poor memory.

Kenny: But… but… the porn! The porn!

Draik: ah, shut up Kenny. Go die somewhere.

Kenny: ;____;

1 Reference to episode 'Best Friends Forever'

2 The legal drop out age here is 16, and I'm pretty sure it's the same in Colorado. Feel free to correct me.

3 Matt and Trey have identified the little girl who looks like Kevin that wanders around Kenny's house as 'Karen' a few times. I can only assume she's his sister.

4 Reference to episode 'ManBearPig'


	2. I win!

Broken Toy Soldier

_Little toy soldier, with eyes that tell all,_

_Little toy soldier, who will take the fall,_

_Little toy soldier, eyes cast down,_

_Little toy soldier, you're gonna drown._

Kenny looked up suddenly, startled and frightened as his door was ripped off its hinges. Dammit- he knew he shouldn't have locked it-

_He was grabbed roughly by the collar and slung forward. Eyes big as dinner plates, he stuttered desperately, "W-wait, please, Dad, I-" but it was a pointless sentiment._

_His father's fist collided with the side of his face, but Kenny didn't make a sound. His dad was probably blaming him for something Kevin had done to his playboys, and Kenny knew by now that if he didn't want to lose consciousness again, he'd better shut up and just take it._

_Of course, he did. And finally, when his dad got sick of beating him, he wandered off for another beer, leaving Kenny to finally let out a whimper and hug his knees to his chest. He brought up one hand to wipe some of the blood off of his mouth, and tenderly touch the spots he knew would develop into bruises._

_Kenny was nine years old._

Kenny was in his room, studying diligently. Before he turned sixteen, no one had ever seen this happen. Now, it was a regular occurrence. He was staring at a page of math problems he fully and completely did not comprehend.

There was a sharp banging at his door, and Kenny whipped his head up. When he was little, he'd taught himself how to take it. He couldn't fight back then, and he couldn't hide. Now, he could run. He'd learned to stick a chair under his doorknob- after learning how to replace a door- and it would give him an extra second headstart. Kenny kicked the text book off his lap, yanked the window open, and scrambled out of it as fast as his skinny legs could go.

He landed in the snow outside with a soft thud, just in time to hear his door splinter. _Ah, shit._ Kenny thought, biting his lip, _I need a new door…_

He pressed himself against the wall, hoping his dad was so drunk he would just wander off and look for him somewhere else. No such luck- he was in that drunken-between-stupidity phase.

"Kenneh? Where the 'ell are you, you worthless slagger?" Kenny held his breath, and suddenly was aware he wasn't wearing any shoes.

Kenny screamed like a little girl when a hand shot out of his window and grabbed his jacket. He tore out of it, and bolted, leaving his father to struggle with the window he couldn't fit through.

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He showed up at Kyle's house a few minutes later, no shoes, no jacket, shivering violently on his doorstep.

Kyle, as he had done before, ushered him in, turned the thermostat up, and went to go raid his fridge.

"Do I want to ask?" Kyle said, punching the buttons on his microwave. He was heating up some cold pizza.

Kenny hugged the blanket a little bit tighter to his frigid skin. "Probably not."

"I'm gonna ask anyway."

Kenny was silent.

"Well?"

"…You gotta ask first." Kenny said, feelings his face go red. He hated talking about his parents. They weren't bad people- they were just in a really bad situation. And people were always telling him he should social services or something. But on his own parents? Maybe they were the best parents- but, they did care about him. They did. And they'd taken care of him since he was born, and all those funeral costs were expensive- so in a way, it was his fault they were so poor and had to do the things they did. He couldn't turn them in, since they took care of him even though he was such a burden, right?

"Kenny, do we really have to do this again?" Kyle sighed, popping the microwave open and pulling the plate out.

"…Do what?" Kenny said, refusing to look up.

"Kenny, why did you show up at my house half naked in the snow?"

"My dad got mad again," Kenny sighed, and noted how his friend's face fell, as if he'd actually expected anything different, "so I climbed out the window. But he caught me by my jacket. I got scared and ran. It was kind of stupid, I know." He said, rubbing the back of his head, embarrassed.

"Kenny, you really ought to-" Kyle started, and Kenny snatched the pizza from him, and tore a piece off of it, chewing silently but with absurdly obvious agitation.

Kyle frowned. "Alright. I get it. Sorry."

Kenny chewed slowly, feeling bad. He'd hurt Kyle's feelings again, hadn't he? He really didn't want to do that… Kyle had always been such a good friend to him, and Kenny was more than a little embarrassed to admit that not so deep down, he liked Kyle as a lot more than a friend.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I just don't really… wanna talk about it, y'know?"

Kyle shrugged. "Whatever." He looked away for a second, then turne dback, face brightening, "You want to play a video game?" Kyle asked.

Keny nodded brightly, "Sure! Wait, is Stan coming over?" He accused, chewing idly on a piece of pizza crust that he would have described as 'soft hard tack.'

Kyle thought for a second, "I don't know. He comes over so much I don't when he's supposed to come over and when he just shows up, y'know? It's okay though, I have three controllers. As long as Cartman doesn't show up- ah, I wouldn't let him in anyway. They both laughed at that, but Kenny' was only halfhearted.

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"Ah- ah- Aha!' Kenny cried, twisting as he mashed the buttons with murderous intent.

"No! No _way!_" Kyle yelled as his character died, "I don't believe this!"

Kenny jumped up into an over zealous victory pose, "Oh yeah! The king wins again!"

"I don't believe this! There's no way! I've been practicing and everything!"

"Haha, but you don't have the natural talent for video games, jew-boy!" Kenny pumped his fist into the air. Coming from Cartman, that would have been an insult Kyle would have instantly retaliated against, but coming from Kenny, there was no malice in it. Kyle didn't even really notice.

"Aaaaaaargh. I want a rematch!" Kyle yelled, grabbing Kenny's arm and yanked him back down.

"Don't worry, Kyle, I'll avenge you!" Stan cried, banging the door open. Kyle yelped, and slipped, tripping over the game box. There was a sort of 'shoop' noise as the screen went black and the cors ripped out of the tv.

"Noooooo!" Kenny mourned, dropping the controller and falling back to his knees, "My highscore!"

Stan felt his face flush, "Eh heh… Sorry!" He apologized weakly, as Kyle kicked his legs outward, trying to roll over. He was stuck between the side of his bed and a misplaced chair. Kenny gave him a shove, and Kyle pushed himself up.

"Hey, Stan," Kenny said weakly, regretting his long-lost points.

"Oh, hey Kenny. I didn't know you were here." Stan commented, smiling.

Kyle glared, "You just killed us. Killed us _dead._"

"Agh, I'm sure my godly skills will boost you guys above your last score anyway. What are we playing?"

"Left 4 Dead, duh. And I got killed by another Tank. Dammit Kenny, why the hell don't you help me when those things show up anyway?"

"I have the nasty habit of _dying_ whenever one shows up. I hide."

"You asshole!"

"Yeah, well, I feel for my poor character. Getting squashed is no fun." He grimaced, shuddering. There was an awkward momentarily silence; mentioning Kenny's constant deaths was considered a social taboo.

"So, um, I'm gonna kick you guys's asses!" Kenny cried suddenly, grabbing a controller as the game booted back up. He pressed start.

"Wah! No fair!" Stan yelled, diving for the abandoned controller as the character on screen that weren't controlled by Kenny started taking a heavy beating.

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Draik: Poor Kenny! *grabs*

Kenny: It's your fault you crazy writer!

Stan: I blame Cartman.  
Cartman: The hell? I haven't even shown up yet!

Kyle: No, I blame fatass too.

Cartman: Screw you guys.

Draik: …I'm gonna have a sandwich.

Kyle: Review please!

Stan: Thank j00! :D


	3. Stan's got Style

**Broken Toy Soldier**

_Little toy soldier, please don't die,_

_Little toy soldier, open your eyes,_

_Little toy soldier, please get back on,_

_Little toy soldier, you're already gone._

_Kenny was sitting outside his window. He parents had started fighting, but his PSP was out of power. He had it plugged in to the plug, just inside, but he didn't actually want to be in there himself. He had some headphones stuffed over his ears, and that helped block out the screaming _and _keep his ears warm. A wind passed by, and he pulled the drawstrings on his hoodie a little bit tighter._

"_Kenny, Kenny!" Stan yelled, running up. Kenny waved._

"_Hey Stan. What's wrong?"_

"_It's Kyle! Cratman kidnapped him again, and he says he gonna stuff him through a wood chipper!" Stan cried, waving his hands in the air. Kenny started._

"_Are you serious?!" Stan nodded furiously. Kenny dropped his PSP, totally forgotten, and jumped to his feet. Both boys ran off to where the wood chipper the mayor had bought was sitting downtown._

"_Kyle! Kyle!" Kenny yelled when he saw Cartman trying to turn the thing on. Cartman looked at them for a second, swore violently, then started punching buttons randomly. To Kenny's horror, it actually booted up and started chipping._

"_Cartman! Don't do it!" Stan screamed, still not close enough to get him._

"_No! The Jew has to die!" Cartman retaliated, hefting a very unconscious Kyle over his bloated shoulders as he waddled towards the chipper._

_Kenny was pretty athletic. Growing up where he did, you learned to be fast and strong. Fast he was, and he reached Cartman first. The ensuing tackle wasn't held back in the slightest, and for the first time in Kenny's life, he slammed Cartman into the pavement with all the strength in his tiny, ten-year-old body._

_Kyle woke up at that, groggily, and sort of rolled around. Kenny had Cartman pinned, and Stan went to go help Kyle up._

"_Cartman, you bastard! You were really gonna kill him?!" Kenny screamed, furious._

"_He's just a freaking Jew!" Cartman yelled back, and shoved the much, much smaller Kenny off of him. It was apparent already that Kenny was naturally built the smallest of the four boys- no matter how strong or fast he was or how hard he tried, he was still smaller and shorter and lighter than Cartman and Stan and Kyle. And Kenny hated it. Because they took advantage of it._

_Stan and Kyle were already retreating, poor, confused Kyle leaning heavily on Stan's shoulder for support. _

"_No! The goddamn Jew got away again!" Cartman yelled, waving his arms._

"_That's what you get, you emotionless bastard." Kenny spat._

_Cartman shoved him into the wood chipper._

Kenny looked up and out at the stars. He was sitting on his roof, since his parents were doing 'stuff' inside, and he really didn't want to hear it through his paper-thin walls. Sure, Kenny was a bit of a voyeur at heart, but Jesus Christ, they were his _parents._ It was just _weird._

Kenny heard the ladder shake, and grabbed the switchblade from his packet, but when he saw his friend's familiar red-and-blue poofball hat peek out over the roof, he flipped it closed and replaced it.

"Hey Stan. What's up?" Stan looked pretty disgruntled as he came to sit up next to Kenny.

"What are you doing on the roof?" He asked, confused.

"Oh, my parents are downstairs doin' the dirty."

"Oh."

Kenny shrugged, "So whatcha come all the way down four houses to the _bad_ side of town to visit me?" he laughed, cocking one eyebrow.

"I, um, wait, you know I say that?" Stan's train of thought had been interrupted, "Whatever. Nevermind. Dude, have you seen Kyle?"

Kenny thought about it, "No, not since yesterday at school when he gave me a ride home."

"Yeah, and after he dropped you off, we were gonna catch a movie. He never showed, so I tried to call him. No dice."

"You check his house?"  
"His mom hasn't seen him either."

"…Cartman?"  
"Cartman."

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So, in the search for Cartman, Stan and Kenny discovered that, once again, Cartman had found a group of followers to eradicate the Jews. The problem, though, was that this time, the crazy followers actually _knew_ they were eradicating Jews. And they were calling him fuehrer. As if Cartman knew what that _meant._

Kenny stared at the huge chain link fence of the South Park Death Camp of Smiles :). Yes, it did have a crudely drawn smiley-face on the end of the sign. Kenny shook his head.

"So Kyle's in here somewhere?" Stan was looking inside the fence.

"…Yeah, I think he's- ah! Wait, I see him, c'mere, dude!" Stan was pointing inside the fence. His hand brushed the metal, and there was an audible _SHZZT_ and Stan cried out, snatching his hand back.

"What the hell was that?" Kenny asked, stepping away from the fence.

"Dude, it's electrified!" Stan growled at the fence. Kenny looked around.

"So no jumping the fence, I guess… Cartman sure has a hell of a lot of guards, doesn't he?" Kenny commented, looking for some way in. Suddenly, he had an idea.

"I got it!" Kenny cried suddenly, attracting the attention of one of the previously mentioned guards. He hefted his gun at them, and started to take aim, Kenny and Stan barely made it into the bushes before a bullet whizzed right through where they'd just been.

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Hiding in some other bushes a little bit farther away, Stan asked, "So what's your idea?"

"They open the gates up for the new inmates, right?"

"Yeah."

"So I sneak in _as_ one, find Kyle, and run like hell."

"Dude, what if they shoot you?"

Kenny shrugged, "Then I die. It happens."  
"Doesn't it, y'know, _hurt_ or something?"

Kenny averted his eyes almost unnoticeably, "Only for a second. Besides, I'm used to it by now. It's not like this is anything _new._" And it was _Kyle._ Kenny could never leave Kyle behind, for any reason. Sure, it hurt like hell, but he _was_ used to it, and if Kyle was in trouble, he'd die for _real_ if he had to. God _damn,_ he was so messed up. What kind of idiot fell for his best friend?

"…Well, okay then. Get Kyle out _before_ you die though, got it?"  
"That's kinda the _plan, _stupid."

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So, it was late at night. They'd decided to wait by the fence in case something happened, and neither of them could sleep even if it wasn't freezing outside. Kenny had started a bit of a fire, and they were silently sitting beside it.

Kenny was lost in his thoughts. This was at least the fifth time that Cartman had tried, really tried, to kill Kyle or get Kyle killed. What if Kyle really did die? Kenny's heart sunk. _No way…_

Kenny made a mental decision. When they'd saved Kyle this time, he was going to tell Kyle how he felt. How he really felt. Kenny felt himself biting his lip at the thought of having to actually say something like that. He _had_ been trying to hint it for years. Kyle would catch him reading his porn all the time, but everybody did, and he went out of his way to make sure he was caught with _all types_ of porn. Playboys, Playgirls, whatever. But Kyle was completely oblivious, to Kenny's disappointment. So, he was going to have to take the direct route. Kenny sighed.

"…So." Stan said, looking down suddenly.

Kenny rubbed his nose, jerked back into reality, "So."  
"Hey, dude, Kenny, you're my friend, right?"  
Kenny squinted, "Yeah."

"So can I tell you something?"  
"Sure, I guess."

"No, seriously. Something totally serious. Like, you can'ttell Craig."  
"I won't tell Craig."

"And you can't tell Butters."  
"I won't tell Butters."  
"And you can't tell Token."  
"I'm not gonna tell Token." Kenny sighed.

"And you _can't tell Wendy._" He said, stressing Wendy.

"Cross my heart, hope to die," Kenny paused at the appropriateness of the phrase for him, "I will never tell Wendy."

"I really, really like Kyle."

"I can tell. You guys are like best friends."

"No, I mean I _really_ like Kyle. Like, I was going to ask him out after this." Stan's face flushed, and suddenly, Kenny stopped moving. He forgot to breathe for a second.

_No._ That wasn't possible. _Stan?!_ It couldn't happen! Not in a million, zillion, trillion billion whatever-illion years! _No! _And just like that, Kenny felt his heart break. Actually _felt _it. The term 'break' never seemed so appropriate before- because it hurt like hell, right in the middle of his chest.

"No!" Kenny yelled, jumping to his feet. Stan looked shocked, not the reaction he'd been expecting.

"What the hell?" He stuttered, and Kenny slammed his foot into the little flicker of flame violently, sending bits of burnt stick and ashes flying outward.

"Godammit, that's not fucking possible!" Kenny yelled, and Stan jumped up, too, trying to stop Kenny before he set his foot on fire. He grabbed Kenny's arm.

"Dude, seriously, are you okay?"  
"I'm not fucking okay, get the hell off me!" Kenny yelled, ripping his arm away. Stan looked hurt, and Kenny suddenly realized how his friend _thought_ he was taking his confession.

"Don't look at me like that! It's not you- god_dammit!_" he was out of fire to kick, so he shoved the log he'd been sitting on over, grabbing at his head frantically in horror at the situation.

"Then what the hell is your _problem?_"

"_I like him too!_" He yelled back, slamming his fist into a tree with all the force he could muster. The bark buckled, and his fist sunk just barely into the wood. He didn't move. It was silent for a few moments.

"And if he has to choose," Kenny said suddenly, voice cracking slightly, "He'll choose you…" Kenny pulled his hand back, without letting Stan see the little droplets of blood poking out of his knuckles. He stumbled off to the edge of their 'camp,' fell to his knees, then pulled them up to his chest and leaned back.

It was silent again.

"I…" Kenny started eventually, much, much quieter.

Stan looked up, worried at this point.

"I…" Kenny continued, as if uncertain, "…Don't tell Kyle."

"What?"  
"Cross your heart. Don't ever tell Kyle."

"Why?" Stan asked, now very concerned. Kenny had a history- he already had problems at home, and a lot of problems the _followed_ him. This wasn't a good sign, and however worried he'd been about himself a few minutes ago, now he was terrified for Kenny.

"Because I'd rather be a friend… then nothing…"

Then, it was silent for a long time.

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Draik: Dear god, am I a horrible person, or what?

Kenny: WHY ARE YOU SO MEAN TO ME?!

Draik: It's because I like youuuu! Everyone knows I torture my favorite characters! Constantly!

Kenny: ;___;

Stan: Dude, you _can't_ have a fic with Style _and_ K2! No way!  
Draik: Well, I just started one, did I not?

Kyle: Do I get a say in this?  
Draik: No, you lurv Stan.

Kyle: But, Kenny! He's crying…

Kenny: boohoo.

Draik: Ah, don't worry. Just because lover boy can't get a date doesn't mean its _all_ bad.

Kyle: Oh yeah, how?

Draik: Well, he _does_ have one other friend than you guys.

Kenny: I do?

Stan: Who?

Draik: _Damien_, Son of Satan! Look out for him in the next chapter!

Kenny: ohhhh… *o*


	4. Prison Break

OH MY GOSH.

I love you guys! FOR SERIOUS YOU ROCK MY SOCKS PEOPLE!

I got _four_ reviews from one chapter. Four! I feel _so_ loved! *all warm and fuzzy*

So I want to make sure you all know you're AWESOME EPIC PEOPLE OF… AWESOMENESS. YEAH.

You guys, Emo-Nerdy-Insane-Writer, so-they-say, and Nari! YOU ARE LOVE! And especially xxx0BlackRose0xxx and Samm Lime, for reviewing before anyone else. :)

Nari- No promises. I've got the majority of this story planned out, but I have no real set ending. Lots of vague ideas, no way to finish every loose end that's going to fray off in this story. It's kind of like using a lighter to melt the tip of a plastic string back into place- except it isn't plastic, it's paper. X_x

Emo-Nerdy-Insane-Writer- I actually write those specifically for the story. :3

**-----------------**

**Broken Toy Soldier**

_Broken toy soldier, you've been left behind,_

_Broken toy soldier, have they really been so unkind?_

_Broken toy soldier, they're all long gone,_

_Broken toy soldier, face the sad facts, they've all moved on._

_Kenny had his headphones on blaringly loud. He couldn't hear anything but the music. He needed his parent's permission to go on a field trip with his class. He'd have to pay out of his own pocket, of course, but he knew that. And he still needed the signature. He knocked on their door. He felt off, like something was wrong, but he'd put this off and the trip was today. He needed that signature. When no one came to open the door, and he shoved it open, to find his parents in the middle of what was very, very obviously sex. _

_And Kenny froze. He didn't know what to do in this situation. Sure, Kenny knew what sex was, he knew it made babies, and he'd knew it had made _him_, but it had never really clicked in his mind that his _parents _had sex. _

_He was in the middle of this revelation when the chair his mother had thrown hit him in the head, smashing his skull and sending him into the wall, where he bled out for less than a minute, and died, while his parents continued their dirty business._

_Kenny missed the trip that day._

Kenny blended in well with the confused abductees. He just cried out a lot and asked people where he was, and they didn't even notice him. He made it inside the gates without a problem. He was actually amazed at how smooth this was going- shockingly, one of _his_ plans was actually not getting him killed. Yet.

Kenny glanced around. They were being led somewhere, but Kenny didn't care where. He just had to die to get out. That was easy. But he had to find Kyle first. And he did. Kyle was in another group, being led in an opposite direction. A quick glance at his guard, and Kenny bolted. Surprisingly, he didn't feel the sting of any bullets smash into him. He could barely hear anything because of the yelling and the general noise of the psychosis in the camp, but, and it might have been his imagination, he didn't _hear_ any gunshots, either. Not that he was really complaining.

He had Kyle within three feet of him- he just had to grab him and _run._ Kyle didn't weigh that much, Kenny knew, and he was ninety-eight percent sure he could carry him all the way to the closest fence. It would hurt like hell to die like that, but he was also pretty sure he was strong enough to utilize a handy thing he'd learned to control called a 'death grip.' When someone knew they were going to die, they're body could pump them full of everything it had and go into overdrive. All he had to do was get shot, or zapped or something. He could get Kyle over the fence to Stan, who was hiding in the bushes, and thye were going to run- _to Stan's car_, Kenny thought hurriedly, and get Kyle _out._ Somewhere safe. Safe? He shook his head, reached out his arms to snatch the bewildered Kyle-

And was instead smashed into the ground himself. He sputtered, coughing up dirt, struggling against the fierce weight holding him down. Kenny kicked outwards, and clawed desperately at the dirt, confused and unable to see anything but the ground that was crushing his face.

_Oh shit oh shith shit,_ Kenny thought desperately_, I gotta get out of here! I gottta- I gotta die, or something! _He looked for anything within his grasp he could kill himself with, found nothing, and starting a short mental process of how to do it without a weapon. Normally, he would just snap his neck or drown himself, but his hands couldn't twist to get his neck, and he couldn't get to any water- _I could bite through my tongue,_ he contemplated, desperate,_ and drown in my own blood? That worked on TV, I think-_

And then the weight was gone, and he was hefted up by what was obviously a guard. Kenny shook his head, completely disoriented.

He was being carried now, heavy, jerking footsteps that jarred his body and was giving him a headache, "Fuehrer said you'd come. Fuehrer said if you came, kid in the orange jacket, just throw you out." Kenny shook his head. _What the hell?_ "Don't kill Kenny, you sorry bastards, Fuehrer said." Kenny blinked. Godamn. Did Cartman _actually_ consider Kenny as a friend? A good friend? Holy shit.

And then he was tossed outside, rather roughly, though, and the gates shut. Kenny didn't move. He was shocked and confused and disoriented and just plain _weirded-out. _

Stan came jogging out to meet him eventually, and the guards eyed him warily, hefting their oversized guns to make sure they'd been noticed.

Kenny couldn't look up. He couldn't look up and tell Stan he'd failed. That he'd left Kyle there. He just couldn't do it.

Stan helped pick him up and get him back on his feet, and Kenny, eyes averted, limped off.

8888

They were back on the far side, by the fence. Kenny was staring at the tent he'd guessed they'd led _his_- he shook his head, no, not his, never to be his- Kyle to. He pointed it out grimly to Stan, and wordlessly, they'd both been watching and wincing for the past half hour. There was no motion. Stan seemed far to lost in his forlorn thoughts for Kenny to say or do anything really, and he felt his heart sinking lower, and lower.

He had failed. He was just as responsible for where Kyle was right now as Cartman was. He hadn't saved him, and now they knew he would try. No chance. If he wanted to get in, they'd throw him out. They wouldn't even kill him. And they would sure as hell shoot Stan. And Stan didn't come back.

Kenny stared at the electric fence. That thing look like it would hurt like _hell._ That thing, combined with it's own height and barbed wire and spikes and whatever else Cartman had done to it, screamed body burnout, ripped up skin, and a broken spine.

Wait. Kenny's eyes widened. Broken spine. _Broken spine._

He stood up, and Stan, startled out of his thoughts, glanced over at him. "Stand back so they don't see _you_, Kenny said quietly, then took a deep breath, and ran into the fence.

And it _did_ hurt like hell. He felt blood vessels pop all over his body, and that oh-so-familiar tingling, burning agony go wrenching through his system. He had a couple of seconds to live, though, and used them to hook his fingers into the links of the fence and fault himself into the barbed wire. All the breath was already shocked out of his body, or he would have screamed when he felt the wires ripped through his skin and send electric-blood flying out jerkily. He shoved his already limp, almost lifeless body just over enough to teeter, slip, and hit the ground on the other side of the fence. Kenny was an expert on dying. And if any one person on earth knew how to hit the ground _just right_ to kill himself, it was Kenny. And he did.

8888

"Well, that wasn't stupid at all, was it?"

Kenny looked up groggily, lips of flames flickering past his eyes. They didn't hurt, though, not anymore. They used to, but being the best friend of the son of Satan really did have it's perks.

Damien scratched his head, and offered a pale hand to Kenny, who took it, shaking the death out of his eyes.

"Yowch. Electrocution, broken spine- I think you actually broke it in four places!" Damien commented idly, pointing at the flames in front of him. The image of Kenny's broken, bloody little form crumpled on the ground was flickering there. Stan was staring, confused but not really surprised at it.

"I need a favor."

Damien frowned, "What?"  
"You can probably guess, man."

Damien sighed, "I don't give life, I take it. You know that."

Kenny shook his head, "I don't want you to save Kyle. I know you wouldn't. You hate Kyle."  
"He's kind of a douche, honestly."  
Kenny glared, "Don't talk about him like that."

Damien laughed out loud. "Oh, sorry!" he giggled almost incoherently, "I almost _forgot_ about your little crush on widdle kyley-wylely!"

Kenny gritted his teeth and squinted, "Like you have any reason to talk. You and your godamn weird-ass obsession with Pip."

That shut him up. Damien glared, got no reaction of fear, as usual, frowned, glared again, bit his lip, and turned back to the image in the fire.

"I'm not obsessed," Damien said, glancing sideways at Kenny, who was wearing his favorite oh-I'm-so-sure face, "I just, um… he's kind of… you know. Cute."

"…Cute?"  
"…Cute."

"Dude. You're the spawn of the devil."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP KENNY!" Damien suddenly snapped. Kenny had quite obviously hit a sore spot.

Then, as if by some wordless agreement, the conversation was dropped.

"I want you to fix my body, and put me back in it. You can bring _me_ back whenever the hell you want."

"Not going to, and that's only cuz your parents tried to sell me your soul. Twice."

"How much was it again?"

"…I think it might have been for a can of peas or something…" Damien trailed off, deep in thought. He shook his head. "Irrelevant. So technically, you're spawn of evil. Not real evil. You're too _nice_ all the time, you godamn sex addict. And if that got you in hell, you could bet your ass you would be. And you'd be dead for real. It's really boring down here, y'know?" Kenny's face softened when Damien started to look forlorn, and Kenny remembered just how lonely he was, and started to try to say something reassuring, when Damien hardened again.

"I'm not going to do that, though. Dad would get pissed, and you know I hate Kyle anyway."

"Oh, come on, Damien! I really need you to do this for me!" Kenny yelled, exasperated. "You've done it before!"

Damien paused, "I need something in _return_, you know."

"I still don't really know where Pip is. I've looked though."

"Oh." Damien looked sad, but not surprised, "you got any pictures?" He gestured to Kenny's right pocket.

Kenny pulled his phone out, and flipped it open. It was really dirty and looked like it was held together by duct tape, but it worked well enough and it did what he needed. Kenny pulled up the picture browser.

"None you haven't seen," He sighed. He was, in fact, looking through every voyeuristic picture he'd ever taken, of almost every person he knew. Kenny couldn't keep a job- everyone in town had already fired him _twice_ for dying on the job. He made money by selling pictures.

And of course, Damien wanted pictures of Pip. Kenny didn't really have to many, no one really liked pip in the first place. Some people had the British fetish or the girly-boy fetish, but no one really wanted any pictures of Pip. They weren't even very good. Pip was an infuriatingly clean kid. _Though,_ Kenny thought suddenly, _I haven't seen pip since… fourth grade? No one really knows what happened to him…He just sort of faded away…He started speaking up less and less, then he wasn't really at school anymore… then he was just, gone. Weird._

"Oh, wait!" He snapped his fingers, suddenly remembering. "Actually, I got a new one for you. It's just an old school photo, nothing dirty, but you've never seen it, and I thought you might want it.

"Lemme see-" Damien snatched Kenny's phone, to his dismay, and looked at the picture taken _of_ the picture. He was quiet for a long time. "I'll take it. You've got a deal." He tossed back the phone, and snapped his fingers.

"Thanks." Kenny smiled as the flames started licking at his feet.

"Don't thank me. Just bring me the picture tomorrow, got it?"

"Yeah. I still get to watch the Terrance and Phillip movie, right?"

"Duh. Don't be late, or else I'll have to get you killed again." He waved. And Kenny just shook his head. So impatient. And then the fire had him, and he wasn't in Hell anymore.

Ow. Ow. Owowowwww…

Everything hurt. Sure, his body was fixed, but hell, it hurt like… um, hell. _I really shouldn't swear so much. I can't think of anything else to say…_

He sat up, groggy, and shook his head. Time to go.

A quick glance around, and he snuck behind the closest building. After a few seconds, he peeked out again. The tent was still in sight. Kenny looked at the ground, and found nothing useful. Just more stupid, stupid dirt. Damn, that stuff tasted foul.

He rummaged through his pocket, and pulled out his switchblade, and looked at it regretfully.

"At least… It's not the good one." He sighed, turned, popped it open, aimed, and pitched it as hard as he could.

He watch it arc, and fall. He stared in disbelief as it slid neatly into the gate controls. A short fizzle- and kaboom.

There was smoke and everything- good god, it was like in Hollywood or something. The guards were caught- Kenny stifled laughter at the retarded pun he'd accidentally thought of- off guard.

He darted out at the distraction- today was his lucky day- and into the tent when it's guard was gone to find out why the gate had just exploded spontaneously. The prisoners looked up at him, and Kyle's eyes widened, shocked.

"Everybody out!" Kenny screamed suddenly, surprising even himself, "Prison break! Run!"

And they did. He grabbed Kyle's hand so that he wouldn't loose him, and made a break for it, screaming 'prison break' at the top of his lungs. It wasn't long before complete and utter chaos was ensuing. And in the chaos, he managed to escape with a lot of other escapees out of the now conveniently broken gate. Why the hell wasn't he this lucky all the time?

And Stan was waiting. Thank god- Stan had a car with him. And unlike Kenny, the chance of him wrecking and getting killed was a hell of a lot lower. Stan yelled something, but it was too loud. He couldn't make it out. Stan waved his arms frantically, horrified by something. Kenny suddenly had a sick feeling in his gut, and wrenched Kyle forward by his hand, and shoved him with all the force he could muster, just as part of the electric fence toppled right on top of him.

And everything went black.

8888

Damien searched around for a remote, while Kenny idly munched on popcorn. Damn commercials. They even had commercials in freaking Hell now.

"Here it is." Damien said finally, and, with his super-satan powers, fast forwarded. Well, it was Tivo, but Kenny was pretty sure Damien thought _he_ though it was some awesome power or something, and didn't really want to burst his bubble.

So finally, the credits rolled, and they were still laughing. "Hot damn, I can't believe they're _still_ funny!" Kenny giggled uncontrollably.

"For shit, dude, I mean, they don't do anything but fart and shit and we're like sixteen now!" Damien was desperately trying to regain his composure. Prince of darkness kind of thing. Wasn't supposed to look happy or something.

"Dude, the day you grow out of potty humor is the day I stop hanging with you." Kenny snorted, and dropped his popcorn.

"Phh, you'd hang out with me anyway. Now gimme my damn picture." Kenny pulled it out of his pocket, grinning madly, now at his friend's absurd obsession. Damien snatched it, and held it up to light like he was checking a hundred dollar bill or something. And then, to Kennys- well, he wasn't sure if it was humor or horror- surprise, Damien slipped off his couch, left his feet propped up on the cushions, and laid on the ground, giggling like a little girl with a picture of one of the Jonas brothers.

Kenny burst out laughing again, so hard tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes, and he hung on to his sides because it was starting to hurt he was laughing so hard.

"Shut up, Kennyyyyyy…" Damien said dreamily, absorbed in his new picture. Kenny rolled around on the floor, gasping for air to laugh with. Damien removed one hand from the photo just long enough to snap his fingers, and the hysterical Kenny was consumed by flames, and shot back to earth.

8888

He knocked on Kyle's door. South Park's Death Camp of Smiles :) was in major disarray, and completely destroyed. So, Cartman, having failed again, would go back to normal within the week, like always. So of course, everyone had gone back to normal, too.

There was no answer. Kenny sighed, and tried the door. Locked. So he rooted around his pocket for some supplies, and picked the lock in a minute flat. Speed like that took practice.

It was pretty dark. And pretty quiet, too. Where the hell was everybody? Kenny looked around, blinking in the darkness. His parents were probably out protesting something- even though Kyle's dad probably didn't really want to- and had taken Ike with them again. Ike was what, twelve or something now? Kenny thought hard. He wasn't really sure. He didn't know Ike too well. Maybe he was ten.

But Kyle should be home. Kyle was always at home at this hour, because this was when Stan always came over and mooched off of shit. As if Kenny didn't.

He wandered up the stairs, and heard voices. The crack under Kyle's door had light pouring out of it. Kenny frowned. Kyle didn't shut his door. His mom hated it, and it had grown into a habit. A habit that perpetually bothered Kenny, because of his own parents. He heard a moan come from within the room.

And suddenly, he knew something was wrong. Something was very wrong. _That_ was why the door was locked. _That _was why the lights were off. _That_ was why Kyle wasn't anywhere to be found when his parents weren't here._ Kyle liked Stan back._

And then he stumbled backward, horrified on what he was about to intrude upon. And that it was actually happening. That it really was true- he didn't have a shot. Not now, not ever. Eyes wide as dinner plates and breath coming in short, flustered, terrified gasps, he backed into a hallway table, and knocked it over. Loudly.

Kenny made a break for it, dashing down the stairs and through the front door, slamming it shut behind him. He made it all the way home, before he realized he didn't want to be there, either, and pressed his back against the wall facing away from the street.

He could feel he wasn't breathing right. It hurt to breathe, and if he'd thought he'd known what heartbreak was like before, now it was heart_shattering_. Like a thousand, tiny, bloody little pieces all cutting each other up and everything else as they trickled down his chest and to the snowy ground below.

Kenny slumped to the ground, back against the wall, brought his knees up to his chest, and cried.

8888

Draik: Another chapter finished. I'm sorry, Kenny. *patpat*

Kenny: boohoo.

Draik: Stan or Kyle would probably pipe up right now, but they're kinda busy.

Kenny: BOOHOO.

Draik: Shit, sorry Kenny! I didn't mean that! Look at the fangirls! Look at the fangirls! The fangirls love you!

Kenny: I DON'T WANT THEIR LOVE! I WANT KYYYYYYYLE! *sob*

Draik: …Help plz? Kenny so saaaaad?

Kenny: boohoo.

Draik: Cookie to whoever can cheer up poor Kenny. ;___;

Kenny: *goes and hides in emo corner*


	5. Smiles over Coffee

Emo-Nerdy-Insane-Writer**- **0///0 Of course. I'd be honored.

Kenny- *sniffs markers* Ehhhhhhh…

Draik: oh, not again. X_x

Nari- All the other fanfics I've read have him all serious and evil to the bone. But what I remember from his episode wasn't really like that. 0_o So I figured, what the hey. Let's make him cute and evil. XD

And please don't hurt Stan. D: I need him alive to finish this thang! And thank j00. :3

----------------------------------------

**Broken Toy Soldier**

_Broken little boy, with so much left to fear,_

_Broken little boy, who isn't wanted here,_

_Broken little boy, too hollowed out to cry,_

_Broken little boy- it's time to say goodbye._

_Kenny coughed so hard he thought he might rip something up inside. He grabbed at his chest- it hurt so _bad!_ Like glass- glass being swallowed the wrong way. He felt tears swell up in the corners of his eyes, and he breathed in and out roughly, unable to get a decent, hot, sticky breath in or out right. He was _so_ sick. So very, very sick. Kenny knew he was going to die… and something felt wrong this time. Something dark was in the back of his mind, grabbing at him. Like real death. And it scared him. Kenny was terrified to die for real- which was why he hadn't put a bullet to his head yet, so it wouldn't hurt so bad._

_He was in hospital bed- his eyes were fuzzy and his head was swimming. What did they say was wrong? A muscular disorder or something? He wasn't too sure- everything was so confusing. He felt hot and weak and he could barely move to get his head up and look over to the door. The knob was turning, someone was coming in. It was visiting hours right now, right? Was it Stan? His weak features brightened for a moment, and he almost smiled. It was the closest he could manage- a weak twitch of the lips was like beaming._

_And Kyle came in. Kenny's eyes unfocused again. Kyle was such a good friend… he was always here for him now… As soon as visiting hours came, he'd come in and talk to him, like nothing was wrong. And was it? He always came back…So why did everything feel so wrong…?_

"_Hey… Kyle…" He said weakly, trying unsuccessfully to sit up._

"_Hey, hey, sit down," Kyle smiled- but it didn't reach his eyes. He was hurting, too, for once at his friend's dying, "you'll hurt yourself."_

_He almost nodded, but he started coughing so violently, he almost ripped the cords out of his arms trying to cover his face, an instinctive motion he'd learned over the past few weeks, back when there had still been a chance for help. But doctors were expensive, and he couldn't afford to get that damn cough checked. It was way too late now._

"_Kenny? Kenny! Crap, are you okay?" Kyle said suddenly, and Kenny just barely got his spasms under control. He was breathing heavily- all that coughing took away almost all the energy he had left. Which really wasn't very much. It had been almost a week here in this hospital bed- and only Kyle had come. His parents had visited once, but they just yelled about the costs and left. Maybe, even with that dark thing in his head, he should just die already… he was going to anyway. No use paying for it, when his parents were so poor. It was kind of sad. At the very least, he hadn't been hit all week. _

_But no Stan. Kenny was really close to Stan- whenever Stan wasn't hanging out with Kyle or avoiding Wendy, he would hang out with him. But Stan wasn't here. Why hadn't Stan come…?One of his best friends in the whole world…?_

_He coughed again, staring at the ceiling. He was very quiet._

"_Kenny…?"_

_Kenny didn't respond._

"_Kenny…?" Kyle sounded really worried._

"_I…" Kenny said quietly, the best he could muster. He couldn't feel his legs anymore. And he wasn't so hot now. He was… cold._

"_Kyle… Where's Stan…?" And then, he felt his heart give. _

_Kenny stopped breathing._

School started back up on Monday as usual. There were no questions, no awkward silences. The only odd thing was there was no Cartman.

Kenny leaned against his locker. He didn't want to come to school today. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. Even home would do. He just didn't want to see what he knew in his heart was coming.

He couldn't skip, though- he was already barely passing all his classes. That was a lot better than middle school, where he failed at least one class every semester. He was doing pretty well in chorus, though. Cartman made fun of him for being in a 'chick class,' but he was pretty good at opera. And he needed the credits.

But did it really matter? He wouldn't get into a college with his grades. He didn't even really want to go to college. He was a dead-end kid. Going nowhere. His life was just built up so that it could stop, right? He'd only wanted to try to go to college so that he wouldn't lose Kyle- and maybe Stan, too, if they went to the same one- because they were the only friends he had. And if he lost them… he'd be alone.

And maybe Damien wouldn't be so lonely anymore.

Kenny shook his head. Screw it. He was out of here. It didn't really matter anyway. He didn't want to be here. He'd tell them he'd gotten shot or something going to the bathroom. Knock on wood.

But suddenly, it was too late to bolt.

Stan and Kyle came down the hallway, hand in hand. Kenny watched them, and slowly brought his hand up to his chest, gripping at nothing. He didn't know why.

Kyle's face was flushed so bright he was like a Christmas tree. Stan was just as confident as always, big-bad football captain that he was. He didn't even look like it- Kenny's thoughts strayed, trying to get him to recognize something other than the ache in his chest. Stan was lean- he was strong, but he wasn't buff. He honestly looked more like the waterboy than the captain.

"Hey Kenny," Kyle said shyly, pulling Kenny back out of the safety of distraction.

"Hey Kyle," Kenny returned, eying Kyle's hand in Stan's.

Kyle bit his lip, "I, um-"

Kenny smiled and shrugged, "I get it. Don't blush so hard, your face might explode!" Kyle only blushed harder.

"Oh, shut up Kenny."

"Ha. Don't act like nobody saw it coming! You're just about straight as a rainbow, Kyley-boy."

Kyle glared, in a way only friends can, "Thanks _so_ much."

"Oh, you're _so_ welcome," Kenny said cheesily, grinning like an idiot.

Kenny suddenly noted the confusion on Stan's face, and the fact he was staying out of the conversation. Like Stan expected him to cry and confess his _oh-my-god everlasting love forevers love me plz omg!_ to Kyle or something. Yeah right. Or maybe he was just confused that he was all smiles and friends. Like he was going to be a bad best friend _right now_. It hurt. It did. But no one would know. Kenny was an expert on pain- and on how to hide it. Whether Stan had noticed that by now or not didn't really matter. As long as he didn't tell Kyle.

Kyle's face softened, "Thanks, Kenny."  
Kenny shrugged, and gave his friend an award-winning, lop-sided grin, "No problem. Friends, right?"

"Forever, dude." Kyle smiled back. Hi five.

The bell rang, "Oh, I gotta go!" Kyle said brightly, reassured, "I'll see you later, Kenny!" And with that, Stan and Kyle were gone. So was everyone else. Kenny was still smiling. The hallway was completely empty, now. The late bell rang. Kenny's head hit his locker, and his smile faded as he bit his lip to keep from swearing out loud. Someone would hear him, and probably tell him to shut it. He didn't want anyone around. Not now.

Then he left. But he didn't go home.

---------------------

Kyle wasn't home again.

Probably out with Stan or something. His car wasn't in the driveway. Kenny stared at the Broflowski's family car with sad eyes. He was cold. He shivered, holding his arms together, and thought about it. Go home and try and find his jacket- even though it was torn to shreds by now, after that bear attack- or see if Kyle had lent his car to someone, and really _was_ home. It was worth a shot. Better than dying of hypothermia again.

He knocked on the door far too hopefully. After a moment, it opened.

Ike looked up at him._ Damn, Ike's short_, Kenny thought. Ike stared at him for a moment, shivering in the cold, Colarado temperature, then ushered him in. Kenny didn't really know Ike very well, but he really was freezing. So he went on in.

Ike was rooting around in a hall closet. He pulled out a blanket.

"Here." He said, and handed it to Kenny, who took it gratefully. Ike didn't say very much anymore, did he? Kenny idly wondered why.

The TV was on, playing some show Kenny didn't recognize. _We watched Terrance and Phillip,_ Kenny thought, _I wonder what kids watch now?_ Apparently, this. It was even stupider than fart jokes. He wasn't sure if there was even a loose plot. Kenny was confused, but happy to be out of the cold.

They were sitting on the couch for a long time, before Kenny, having long ago caught on to Ike's general feel of sadness, grew curious as to why.

"Oh my god," Kenny said softly, "they killed Kenny."

"...Kick the baby," Ike said, even more softly, then was silent. Oh.

Ike didn't feel very loved, either.

------------------

Kenny waited outside the school for a full half hour, before he sullenly had to realize that Kyle wasn't giving him a ride today. He pushed himself to his feet, and wandered off.

It was a particularly cold day today. It was nearing winter. _Actually_, Kenny thought sadly, _tomorrow is Thanksgiving._

He kicked a rock down the street. Where was he going? He didn't really know. Home was a no-go, Kyle was always busy, now… He didn't have any money to really go anywhere… It wasn't to cold to stay outside for awhile longer, he decided.

_What do I have to be thankful for…?_ Kenny looked at the sky, still traveling down the deserted sidewalks.

_I've got… good friends._

Damn… It was so cold out here.

_I've got a warm bed._

Well, now that he'd inherited Kevin's old blanket anyway.

_I've got food and shelter._

Kenny's stomach rumbled, and he wondered where he could go that wouldn't end up hurting his head or his heart.

_I've got a lot to be thankful for._

------------------

Kenny had wandered into the Starbucks downtown, and waved to Tweak. Tweak nodded back, and frowned. He waved him over.

"Jesus!" Tweak commented, jittery as ever, "You look cold as hell, man!"

Kenny shrugged, "I'm used to it."

"Hey, let me get you a cup, okay?"

"No, seriously, I don't have any money." Kenny pulled his empty pockets out for emphasis.

Tweak shook his head, "No, on the house. Well, on me, really, my dad's here right now."

Kenny smiled, "Thanks."

"No problem."

Kenny idly sipped on the coffee; he didn't really like the taste, but it was warm and free. Two things he really loved. The door chimed, and, instinctively, Kenny looked over. Kyle and Stan came in.

Kenny looked away, trying to make himself scarce. Maybe they would just buy their coffee and leave?

"Kenny!" No, of course not.

"Hey guys! How's it goin'?" Kenny grinned, and Kyle pulled over a chair. Stan was grabbing their drinks.

"'S good. Y'know, I didn't really have anywhere to go after school, so I'm just sort of… eh, wandering." Kenny shrugged, and took another sip of coffee. Stan came over.

Kyle frowned, then cried, "Oh, god! I'm sorry, Kenny!"

Kenny shrugged. "It's no problem. You don't really have to pick me up… I don't wanna go home anyway."

Kyle looked like he really wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. Stan saved him.

"Dude, that was my fault. I totally kidnapped him today, sorry." Stan shook his head regretfully.

"No problem. What the hell for?" He commented, picking up the coffee again. Kyle's face flushed, and he looked down at his lap.

"Um- nothing." He stuttered.

Oh.

Kenny raised and eyebrow and his lips twitched faintly, "Bow chicka wow-wow." He giggled.

Kyle's face went red as a tomato, but Stan just laughed.

"Hot damn, I never thought you'd join the ranks of men, my boy!" Kenny said in very fake military voice, doing an overly energetic salute across the table.

"That's not funny." Kyle said, but he was smiling.

"Of course it is. I'm laughing." Kenny wasn't laughing.

"…Why was that funny?"  
"Who said anything about funny?"

"…What?"

"Who?"

"Argh!" Kyle cried, "I'm confused!"

"I don't think _Kenny_ understood what he just said." Stan shook his head. Kyle's lips twitched.

"I'm sure he didn't."

Kenny brought the coffee to his lips, only to find it was empty. Even though he was still thirsty. Oh well. He set it back down.

"Oh, be right back. Bathroom." Kyle pushed his chair out, and pecked Stan on the cheek. Kenny retained his smile until Kyle disappeared around the corner, when he let his face fall back down to how he felt. Which was about… six feet under.

"…Kenny? Dude, are you okay? What's wrong?" Stan asked.

"I… My heart hurts." He said, averting his eyes.

"…I'm sorry, Kenny."  
"I don't know why."  
"Kenny, you're my best friend. I'm worried about you."  
"I thought Kyle was your best friend."  
Stan shrugged, "Well, Kyle's more than that now." So I get to fill the slot now? Always, always second choice.

"Mm."

"Kenny, are you okay?"

Kenny paused, staring at his empty cup, "Not really. But it's okay."

Stan shook his head, "Dude, It's not okay. Why would it be okay?"

Kenny sighed, "You don't get it."

"Don't get what?"

Kenny bit his lip, "You really love him?"  
Stan nodded, so sure. "With everything in me."  
"I'll be your best man." Stan blinked, but nodded, slowly.

"Duh."

"I'll help you pick out a ring. I'll even babysit your kids if they let you have them." Stan was wary- he didn't know where Kenny was going with this.

"I'll watch you grow old with him…" Kenny finally looked up, "As long as it means watching him."

Stan looked like his heart had just dropped right into his feet. He opened his mouth to say something- anything! But Kyle pulled the chair out and sat down.

"Sorry! So, what are we talking about?"  
Kenny snapped right back into it, bright, shiny smile lighting up the room, "Oh, just about how many Kyles it would take to screw it in a lightbulb," he laughed.

Kyle snorted, "Yeah, right."

"No, no, really!" Kenny made a dramatic hand-gesture, "Stan says it would physically take two, since I didn't include a ladder- but I think there'd need to be three, since you couldn't climb on your shoulders while holding a lightbulb. You'd break it."

Kyle laughed, "The hell? You two are so weird."

Stan wasn't laughing. He still wanted to say something. Kenny just nodded at him. Stan gulped.

"Mm."  
"Stan? What's wrong?" Kyle asked, noticing Stan's distress.

"I… uh…" Kenny gave him a pleading look, "I think the first Kyle could probably hold the light bulb while the second one climbed on his shoulders." He sighed. Kyle wasn't stupid. He could tell something was off.

"Hey, I gotta go." Kenny said, standing up, "I'll see you guys tomorrow, right?"

Kyle looked back over, "Really? Right now?"

"Yeah, I gotta job interview. Finally."  
"Really? That's great, Kenny! Where?"

"I- um," Kenny hadn't thought that far, "Just down the street, actually."

"Hey, we'll walk you there. Okay?"

Kenny brightened. He was wanted.

"Sure!"

The door chimed again as they left, and the three were idly chatting as Kenny thought of somewhere he could duck into that wouldn't be too suspicious.

There was a loud noise behind them- a car revving. The lights flared on a truck, and it sped forward. Kenny was too close to the curb, he noticed. And if the car swerved, as he knew it would- goodnight.

Kenny didn't dodge. Kenny didn't scream. Kenny didn't even close his eyes.

He just looked sadly at his friends- later, guys.

Bam.

--------------

"Thought you could use an out."

Kenny didn't look up. "Yeah. Thanks."  
"Come on. It's okay. You're alright. Right?" Damien asked, concerned.

"I will be. Just give me a minute, okay?" He leaned back against a rock.

"I… This is a really bad time for this, isn't it?" Damien sighed.

"What?" Kenny didn't open his eyes.

"Um… You know, I've had the demons watching Cartman since my dad wants him as an advisor when he dies-"

Kenny sat up, "What the hell is Cartman doing?"

Damien snapped his fingers. An image rose up into the flames. Cartman was in a big room, in his Hitler suit, with all his crazy followers.

"…What is…?" Kenny said quietly, confused.

"Cartman's doing something very out of character. Normally, when something fails, he quits… but he's just gotten stronger. He's rallied even more followers. They've built three more death camps in secret, and the South Park one is back up and running."

"He… no!" Kenny cried, suddenly understanding.

"God, Kenny, I'm really sorry."

"What the- the- he-" Kenny stuttered, "But, then- he- Kyle would-"

Damien shook his head, "I might hate Kyle, but I sure as hell don't hate you. I feel pretty obliged to tell you that the fatass has put out a Wolf's Head on Kyle."

"A Wolf's- what?"

"He wants him found. He's going to be executed as an _example_. Brutally."

Kenny felt his heart sink into his stomach, "I- I have to go."  
"I- oh, shit. They just got him."

"What?!"

Damien swiped his fingers through the fire, and the image warbled, then steadied on Stan. He was standing in the street, stumbling, confused and bewhildered, yelling something. Screaming. But Kenny couldn't hear. The fire's were silent.

Damien swirled his finger in the air, and the picture rewound. Kenny thought briefly, _maybe it isn't tivo, after all-_

Kyle was backing up from the bloody mess in the street. Kenny winced at the image. Yuck. Stan pointed and said something. Kyle looked at where Stan was pointing. There were two men, whispering and pointing back. They yelled something. Kyle nodded, yelling back. Then one of the men yelled something else- and ran at Stan and Kyle. There was no time to even register what they were doing, let alone get away.

It was way to fast. Kenny could barely see anything- it was so blurry. Stan got hit with a stick or something, hard. He hit the pavement, and Kyle managed to get in a good punch into the guy who put Stan out of the fight-but the other guy hit him in the back of the head. Kyle stumbled and tripped. Stan started crawling. Kyle wasn't moving. Then, they grabbed him, and ran. Stan stood up, stumbling, screaming, dazed- he didn't know where he was- where they went-

Kenny realized he wasn't breathing. He sucked in air suddenly, "No way…"

Damien shook his head gravely.

"Send me back!" Kenny yelled, grabbing Damien by the collar, furious.

"Dude! Calm down! I will! Listen to me for a second!"

Kenny didn't loosen his grip.

"Kenny- I think I have to warn you. I have a bad feeling. I don't really know why- but something feels really off here. I don't think it's a good idea."  
"What isn't? Saving my best friend's life?"  
"I- don't die, Kenny."

"Why the hell not?"  
"I don't know, okay?!" Damien yelled back, shoving Kenny off. "But something is pretty fucked up here! _Don't die, Kenny!_"

Kenny shook his head.

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want. _Now send me back!_" Damien glared, and snapped his fingers.

----------

Kenny was standing in the same clearing him and Stan had been in a few days ago, saving Kyle. How ironic.

"Holy shit!" Kenny turned around, surprised at the voice.

It was Stan. Weird.

"Kenny! They- Kyle-" Stan stuttered, frightened. Frightened? Stan? Really?

"They're gonna kill him, Stan."

"But- they can't-"

"It's _Cartman,_ godammit!" Kenny screamed, waving his arms. "Don't you get it?!"

Stan swallowed, face pale. He didn't know what to do.

Kenny bit his lip.

"Okay. I have a plan."

"What is it?" Stan said, suddenly quieter, so they wouldn't be heard. If they already hadn't been.

"You can't stop me, got it?" Kenny said, enunciating his words. Stan nodded, but didn't like the sound of it. Kenny felt something, in the back of his mind. Something dark. He didn't like it. The last time he'd had this feeling… Kenny thought hard, was when he'd died of a muscular disease, when he was eight. He'd stayed dead for a whole _year._ It was almost like a _warning_- even _you_ can't live forever.

But suddenly, Kenny didn't care.

"You're going to get your car."

"Already here."  
"Good. I'm going to break Kyle out. They don't want to kill me. Cartman told them not to kill me. So I'm going to put Kyle in my clothes. When he gets tossed out, you take him to my house. Go home." Stan shook his head.

"What?"

"Shut up! No time! Go to sleep. Pack. Tell them Kyle's dead- and you can't stand it here anymore. _Run away._ Tell Kyle to be outside then, and make sure his hood _stays up._ Open the door. Tell him to get in. Then drive like hell, you got it? Don't stop for a hundred miles! Get to the government. Tell them what's happening, and tell them everything you know about Cartman. Anything you can think of. There's three underground camps he's got hidden, and this one. They might come after you, but they won't come for Kyle."

"But- why wouldn't they come for Kyle?"  
"Because Kyle will be dead."

Stan shook his head.

"I'm confused."  
"No time. Just wait for him. Then drive! Don't be too suspicious, or even Cartman will catch on, got it?"

"I- Kenny…"

Kenny shushed him, and turned towards the fence. He took a deep breath- and touched it.

Out.

It still hadn't been fixed. Damn! He was lucky this time.

"Kenny, what are you going to do?"

Kenny paused, turned, and smiled back at Stan. But it didn't reach his eyes.

"Don't tell Kyle."

Kenny pulled himself just up to the wire, and noticed, to his surprise, that where he had fallen before, the wire was all messed up. He pushed on it, and it gave. It was like everything was just falling into place so that this could happen. He vaulted over the top.

He hit the ground with a dull thud, and looked back towards Stan.

"Where?"

Stan pointed at a wooden shack.

"In there."

Kenny nodded, and padded over to it. Locked. Damn.

But it was a moveable shack- above ground. He pulled out a panel, and squeezed underneath, before replacing it. The floor was pretty thin. He could hear Kyle breathing.

Kenny found a part of the floor where he thought he could pry it open- and he ushed against it. A little working, and the floor came loose. Cartman didn't know very good carpenters, did he?

Kenny poked his head up.

"What the-" Kyle started, but Kenny scrambled up and covered his mouth.

"Shh!" He pulled his switchblade out- the nice one- and cut through the binds on his wrists. "Quick, take off your shirt."

Kyle blinked, "Wh- what?"  
"Take it off!"

"Kenny, Stan told me that- you-" Kenny paled. No. He didn't.

"I- there's- dammit, take your shirt off!" He said, biting his lip. Too late now. The dark thing in the back of his mind giggled.

Kyle did so, yanking his jacket and shit over his head. Kenny already had his hoodie off, and tossed his undershirt to Kyle, who pulled it on. Kenny did the same with Kyle's clothes, and they trade pants. Kenny yanked Kyle's hat on, stuffing his hair into it desperately. He yanked Kyle's shoes on, too.

"What are we doing this for?!" Kyle hissed.

"Pull up your hood-" he yanked it over Kyle's head, and pulled the drawstrings, hiding his face. "Now quick, tie up my arms." He shoved the rope towards Kyle, who reluctantly wound it around Kenny's wrists.

"Kenny- Stan wasn't- when he said-" Kyle stuttered.

Kenny paused. He didn't look at Kyle. "Well, guess it couldn't last, huh?"

"Kenny…"

Kenny shrugged, "Just… Just be happy, okay?"

Kyle was about to say something, when the lock jiggled on the door. Kenny started- then shoved Kyle through the hole he'd made, and grabbed the planks.

"Get out, then run! Anywhere, just away from Cartman! They won't kill you! They can't! Stan will tell you everything else- Now go!" He whispered, and shoved the floor back into place.

The door opened, and Kenny shut his eyes when a flashlight hit his face.

"Hello, Jew." It was definitely Cartman's voice. Kenny didn't look up. He didn't respond.

"Not gonna talk, eh, Jew-boy? Doesn't matter. You've just gotta scream."

Then, he picked up, kicking and flailing, outside. There was a lot of noise. All the tents were being emptied. All the confused people were being circled around one clearing.

Kenny was dumped into it, and he hit the dirt. Damn. Dirt. It tasted foul.

He rolled over, trying to avoid having Cartman see his face for too long, lest he be recognized. But it _was_ dark, and Cartman hadn't seen Kenny or Kyle for a few months- and he _wanted_ it to be Kyle-

He felt a kick slam into his ribs, and recognized the familiar feeling. Three had been broken instantly. A fourth was cracked. All the breath went out of him in a whoosh, and he coughed, gasping for air.

"You goddamned Jews have gotta learn your lesson!" Another kick.

He was grabbed by the neck, and pulled into a sitting position, so everyone could see him, hacking, coughing up a little blood, desperate and terrified. But he couldn't get away. And he wouldn't Kenny had to die here. Or else they'd keep chasing Kyle. They'd hunt him down and find him and kill him. And Kyle didn't come back.

_Maybe_, Kenny thought, as the dark thing loomed ominously, _I won't either._

The hand tightened, and he couldn't breathe anymore. His hands scrabbled at his throat, gasping for oxygen. Damn- it burned-

Another kick.

Another.

Another.

It was relentless. Kenny noted that he was crying, now. Cartman was a sadistic bastard. Why'd he have to love pain and hate Kyle?

It was so noisy, too. Everyone was yelling, screaming. Kenny clawed at the dirt, crawling away from the boot. It just hurt _so bad._

A voice that was louder than the others. A gunshot- and he screamed again, as a bullet erupted through his leg. Painful, but not lethal. God…

He stopped crawling. Kennt cried, quietly, into the dirt. Cartman stepped over, and picked his face up by the chin.

"What do you think of me now, Kyle? Still think I'm just a fatass?" Kenny was breathing heavily, but even pretending to be Kyle, he wasn't going to give Cartman the pleasure of fear. No way in hell.

Cartman frowned, "That's funny-" _oh shit- my eyes- _"-I thought your eyes were-" Kenny spit in his face, earning him a kick that shattered his jaw.

He couldn't cry anymore. And he didn't want to crawl. Too many broken ribs- and his arm was broken, he noted. When had that happened? He thought back fuzzily. It was too confusing.

"Damn Jew," Cartman cursed. Kenny didn't respond.

"Throw him in the fire." There was a hushed murmur, and that was it. Kenny was lifted up. He barely felt it anymore. Everything hurt. It was like being caught in that wood chipper all over again- but slower.

The boiler opened up. They threw him in. _Huh. _ Kenny thought, _this fire hurts._

The doors slammed shut.

--------

Damien's heart sank. The demon in front of him bowed his head sadly.

"What do you mean you can't find him…?"

---------

Intro- Episode 513, 'Kenny Dies.'

-----

Draik: …That was really, really long. That was like nine pages. Huh.

Kyle: Yeesh. Stop kidnapping me.

Draik: But it's just so _fun._


	6. Where's Kenny?

**Broken Toy Soldier**

_Poor little angel, did you ever stop to think,_

_Poor little angel, you might not had been on the brink,_

_Poor little angel, always ready with a fist-_

_Poor little angel - you didn't think that you'd be missed._

Stan didn't move for a long, long time.

It wasn't like Kenny dying was weird, or anything. And this was in no way more gruesome or disturbing than most of the ones he'd been through before- but this. This was- this was wrong. He really did look like Kyle. And Stan was more than a little ashamed to admit that had Kenny looked just like, well, Kenny- he wouldn't have been quite so bothered.

_Jesus Christ, I'm a terrible fucking friend, aren't I?_ Stan felt queasy. His legs wobbled slightly, before his knees finally buckled, and he hit the ground. Stan rested his head against the fence, one hand on his stomach, one hand on the links to keep him from slipping. He was trembling.

And he didn't know _why._ Stan didn't know why there was something so wrong about this right now. Something so different. So painfully, horribly different. He thought he might be sick.

The panels stirring under the building caught his eye, though, and he looked up just slightly. Ken- Kyle peeked out, checking the area nervously. Then he darted, leaving the siding panel on the ground. Stan watched him, mind sort of numb and fuzzy, uncomprehending. What was it? Shock? A quick burst of pain- of the inevitable, _what did I let happen?_ then, nothing. Just blankness. White.

It occurred to him suddenly he should have waved Kyle over, so that he wouldn't be caught fleeing. Belatedly, he looked at his hand, suddenly bewildered by the fact that it was attached to his arm.

Before he could remember how to wave it, though, Kyle cried out as he was snatched up by a guard.

And suddenly, it all snapped back into perspective for Stan. He had to clap his hands over his mouth to keep from screaming at Kyle- that would blow their cover. Stan couldn't see his face because of Kenny's hoodie, but he was sure it was drained and white, terrified. Stan was terrified, too- surely, they would find them out. They would notice that Kyle just didn't weigh the right amount, or that his voice was too high pitched. Which it was. Kyle had never lost that girlish squeakiness that everyone else had abandoned around puberty. Stan thought it was cute.

Ken- _no, no, stop it. He just looks like Kenny._ Kyle was tossed outside of the gate. He stood up, and took a few steps back, obviously still scared shitless. Stan looked back at the boiler doors one more time, feeling a deep sense of dread wind its way through his stomach, then ran to where Kyle was.

_----------------_

Kyle slammed the door of Stan's car shut, and Stan could see he was shivering, violently. And it sure as _hell_ wasn't because it was so cold out.

"Shh, sh. It's okay," he said, reaching across to put his arm around Kyle's shoulder, and pull him in closer. At the same time, he twisted the key in the ignition and switched the car into drive. They were getting the hell out of here before anyone caught on.

"God- I- why aren't they following us?" Kyle managed to choke out after a few seconds.

"Kenn-" Stan started, then stopped. _Don't tell Kyle._ Well, he'd broken that fucking promise once already, and he wasn't going to get a chance to apologize. _Wait- I'm not?_ He thought suddenly. Kenny came back. Kenny always came back. Why had he thought that? He wasn't going to break it again, not in this life or any other.

Not even for Kyle.

"They just… They just aren't, okay?"

"What did Kenny say to Cartman? Jesus, _Christ._" Stan blinked. _Say?_ Really? He couldn't get it on his own? He didn't understand? Shock, perhaps? It wouldn't last very long. Maybe he could tell him it was a quick execution. Bullet in the brain- bam! Then it was over. No, no, that would be lying. He couldn't lie to Kyle. And it would still be telling him that Kenny had died. And what if Kenny _didn't_ come back?

_Don't even THINK that! Just don't! _His head screamed silently at him. That would still break his promise. What had he promised? Don't tell Kyle?

Don't tell Kyle _what?_

Don't tell Kyle the brutality?

Don't tell Kyle that he was dead? Maybe- maybe- Stan gulped- for real?

Don't tell Kyle he'd been telling the truth earlier?

Don't tell Kyle that he'd _known_ something was wrong this time?

Don't tell Kyle _what? _

There was so much he shouldn't say. And so much it was too late to take back.

"Kyle?" He asked, noticing Kyle's silence. He was leaning against him, a warm, scared little kid who didn't really know what was going on.

"Mm?" Kyle returned quietly, contemplative. He wasn't shaking quite as badly anymore.

"Okay, here's the plan. After you got taken, I called your folks. They got out of town, so they're safe. But there were some guys searching cars for you apparently, since I guess they didn't know they had you yet. They got scared and Ike made a break for it. They called me, and I've got him hiding in the last place they'd think to look."

"Where?" Stan couldn't help but give him a grim smile.

"Cartman's attic."

Kyle shook his head.

"Okay," Stan continued, "I'm going to drop you off at Kenny's house. Pretend you're Kenny. I'm gonna go home. Tomorrow, I'll make a big helluva mess over your being 'dead.'"

"I'm dead?" Kyle blinked. So. Still a little in shock at least. Kind of good. Maybe he'd block out the whole thing? Stan bit his lip.

"Um… Yeah."  
"How- why… Why am I dead?"  
"I- I can't tell you." He sighed, "You're just gonna have to trust me, okay?" Stan gave him such pleading eyes that Kyle had to let it go.

"I'll tell them I'm leaving South Park, then- oh shit, my parents are out tonight." He swore, "Godammit. I'll have to wait until early afternoon when they get back. Make sure you're outside, wandering around or something. I'll drive by, then you get in the car. We're going for help."  
"From who?"  
"I don't know!" Stan cried, emotionally exhausted, and suddenly scared. _Of what, dammit?_ "The government or something, I guess! Somewhere. Far far far fucking away."  
Kyle looked taken aback, and Stan felt his heart lurch. "I'm sorry-" He said hastily, "I didn't- I didn't mean to snap at you."

"I know."

"We'll pick up Ike on the way out of town. Okay?"  
"…What about Kenny's parents? You really think they won't be able to tell the difference between me and their son?"

Stan bit his lip, and just stared at the road, suddenly feeling ashamed of being such a shitty ass friend all the time. _Maybe I could have helped him. I always knew what he was going through- I could have helped him… Could've at least done what Kyle did. Make sure he was okay when he needed a place to go. Dammit. No wonder he never came to my door when he was fucking bruised and freezing his ass off in the snow. I bet I would have even said I was busy. I'm such a bastard._

Stan breathed outward, slowly, mournfully. Not really a sigh- but it was more than just breathing.

"Honestly… no."

_--------------_

Kyle opened the door to Kenny's house, feeling awkward and out of place. What would Kenny do when he came home? Kyle thought about it. Kenny didn't go home too much anymore. Back when they were kids it hadn't been so bad. _It was… I dunno, maybe once or twice a month?_ Kenny had admitted once. Now he said it was more like every day. If they could catch him, anyway. Kenny was pretty fast now.

So what did he do when he _did_ come home? Did he say anything? Or did he just go to his room silently, go to sleep, then get up and get out? That's what _Kyle_ would do. _No- no, that's not right. Christ, if I had that every day… I wouldn't be living here anymore._

Kyle was jerked out of his thoughts by the overwhelming stench of alcohol. He gagged. Kyle was a conservative kid- he didn't drink. Maybe a beer at a party every once in a while, but hell, he never drank more than that, even at _Token's_ parties. And Token's parties were _huge._

He covered his mouth and nose, disgusted. Kenny's parents were passed out. His father was halfway on the couch, halfway off, one half-empty bottle of beer lolling idly in his hand on the floor. Half-forgotten. Kyle bit his lip. His mother was at the table. If Kyle remembered anything about what Kenny had ever said about his parents when they were passed out, it was that they were _out._ Kenny had always said he was so glad when he would come home one night after being dead for too long, and they'd be crashed somewhere, drunk into oblivion. But, Kyle, still worried, crept across the floor, towards Kenny's room.

His mother stirred. And that was when Kyle noticed, oddly, and unlike her husband, Kenny's mother didn't have a bottle of beer trapped in her hand, or really, anywhere near her. Had she left it somewhere? He stood frozen, terrified to wake her further.

"Eh… Kenny?" She asked sleepily. _Holy shit, was she just _asleep?_ Not drunk?_ Kenny's mother's face brightened.

"Oh, Kenny, I was so worried!" Kyle didn't move when she ran up and grabbed him in a hug, like a frightened mother should. Kyle couldn't say anything, because if she really was sober, even _she_ would note the difference in their voices.

She sounded like she was going to cry, "I was so scared! You haven't been home in _days, _and I- I just- I thought you were never coming back!" Kyle paused. _Days? Really? I mean… he was gone today… but wasn't he here last night? Did they not see him come in? _Kyle felt suddenly guilty at deceiving her like this, _actually- I didn't pick him up from school today… or yesterday, either… Was he even there after school? I didn't see him except just before school started…Where's he been sleeping?_

"Oh, god, Kenny, I'm just so sorry! You know your dad and I love you, right?" She looked at him, worried that he might say no. Terrified, actually. Kyle could see it in her eyes. And he had to avert his own, partly because she would notice his were the wrong colour, and partly because he felt awful. She really thought he was Kenny.  
"Um, yeah…" He mumbled, feeling obligated to respond.

"I'm so, _so, _sorry, Kenny!" She pressed his head against her chest, rocking back and forth like he was a little kid. Kyle thought about it for a moment. Well, maybe he was a little kid. And it felt nice, especially since he was scared shitless of getting caught right now. It felt… well, motherly. Warm. Safe.

"I thought you were never coming back…" She mumbled, mostly to herself. Kyle suddenly couldn't take it anymore. It hurt his heart to be here where Kenny should be, getting this attention he deserved.

"I- I have to go to bed…" He said softly, trying to get his voice to sound like Kenny's, "I've got… school tomorrow."

She sniffed, and rubbed his head for a moment. "Okay, honey, okay… I know you do, I know. I'm so proud of you… wanting to go to college and all. When I was your age, I'd already dropped out…" _Kenny wanted to go to college?_

She let him go, "I love you, hon. Don't forget, okay? And please, please, _please,_ if you're going to be gone so long, tell us? I worry when you're gone. I'm afraid my little boy might be hurt." She said softly. Kyle wanted to turn and run. _Hurt? Kenny _dies_ like every other day! So what if he's hurt? _He instantly regretted the thought. He didn't want Kenny hurt, either. He was being selfish and scared and tired and- wait. Now he was making excuses. Kyle felt a hell of a lot worse. _Do I really not care when Kenny gets hurt? Does he really mean so little to me? Kenny's my friend… right?_

"I'm-" What to say? "I'm fine, ma."

She nodded, bit her lip, and turned away reluctantly, back to her own room. Then, Kyle really did run. He shut the door quickly, and grabbed for the lock Kenny had on the upper part of the door. He sunk to his knees, leaning back against the door.

_I take it back, _he thought sadly, _I take it back. _

_-----------------._

Kyle looked up, eventually. He was way too freaked out to sleep. Would Kenny mind if he looked at his stuff?

Kyle thought about it.

Probably not, but he shouldn't anyway.

There was a long pause.

But after all the excitement, the chaos, and the adrenaline, doing nothing seemed… boring. And Kyle was just about 99.9% sure he wasn't ready to go to sleep.

Kyle pushed himself to his feet, and wandered over to where Kenny's bed was. He frowned. It was sloppy- Kenny obviously never made his bed. Or cleaned. Anything. Kyle tried to push his urgent need to fix this pigsty to the side, and looked at Kenny's meek bedside table. He looked to his right. He looked to his left. He wasn't sure why- there was no one here. Wandering ghosts, maybe?

He pulled the drawer open. Inside nestled nothing but a box. It was sort of crinkly, as if it had been here a long, long time. It had broken, split corners held together with scotch tape, and there were a few scraps of wrapping paper stuck to the sides. Other than that, it appeared the drawer was empty. He stared at the box. _Don't open it. Don't open it. Don't-_ he pulled it out and took the top off.

Kyle's heart sank, because he knew what it was. He recognized it, and felt sick to his stomach.

Inside was a little toy soldier, with a little plastic gun propped up against its shoulder, and a broken left arm.

His gift to Kenny for his ninth birthday.

_I…_ Kyle thought helplessly, _I just grabbed something from Ike. I didn't even stop to think what he would want… I just thought I should get him _something…

Kyle stared at it for a moment, then sat down on Kenny's bed, because he suddenly felt exhausted. The irony of the gift was astounding. _It's a lot like him._ Kyle thought forlornly, _I always thought of Kenny as… unbreakable. Like when you see soldiers heading off to war, all proud and bright and glorious… I never thought he could be hurting so bad. I never realized… he was just as human as everyone else. I never realized Kenny could break._

His heart caught in his throat, and he swallowed it back down. Then he noticed what was on the bottom of the box. Lining the bottom were little scraps of paper with messages hastily scrawled all over them.

_Kyle-_

_Just dropped this in your locker because I wanted to talk to you. It's second period now, so could you meet me outside at lunch? It's important. Thanks._

_-Kenny_

Funny. He'd never gotten this letter.

_Kyle-_

_I don't really know how to say this. Maybe I should say it in person instead? Can you meet me after school by the bus ramp? Thanks._

_-Kenny_

Or that one.

_Kyle-_

_This is probably the fiftieth time I've tried to write a letter and get it to you. I'm such a coward, I keep writing them and then don't give them to you or_

That one cut off.

_Kyle-_

_I'm sorry! I died! I know I was supposed to come help you clean up that mess, but I got run over by a lawn mower and I'm really really really sorry! I came back as soon as I could but then they made me stop and give them my name so they could bill me for the lawnmower repairs and by the time I got there it was all clean! I'm so so so sorry, can you forgive me?_

_-Kenny_

Kyle remembered that. Kenny had gotten pancaked on his patio, and if his parents saw all that blood, they'd freak. He told Kenny to get his ass over to his house and help clean it up. So that was why he never showed.

_Kyle-_

_I've been trying to say this for a long time. I have, I swear. I guess I was just afraid of rejection. So I thought it might be easier to use a letter? _

_Will you go out with me? On a date?_

_-Kenny_

Kyle's stomach lurched. So it really _was_ true. He hadn't wanted to believe it.

_Kyle-_

_You're my best friend in the whole world, so I think you deserve to know_

Cut off again.

_Kyle-_

_I LOVE YOU_

Kyle's heart dropped. That one was all crumpled up. And far more disturbingly, there was blood on it.

_Kyle-_

_I asked Wendy how to get a girl. She got a girly and stuff on me and said something about poetry. I know you're not a girl, but I really, really like you, and I want you to like me too. So I wrote this for you._

_I've been here for a thousand years_

_Always wading through my hopes and fears_

_Always scared of rejection- that you'd say go away_

_But I guess I'm just here to stay_

_I want you to know cuz I can't go one like this_

_I'm breaking apart, I'm always breathless_

_Everytime you come around_

_I start to break down_

_There's only one real thing you have to know is true-_

_Kyle Broflowski- I'm in love with you!!_

_I don't know if that was any good. But I want you to know how special you are to me. Will you go out with me?_

_-Kenny_

Kyle stopped at that one. There were dozens of them, letters he'd never gotten. But this one… Kyle held it for a moment, feeling guilty. He stopped. Was that it? Just guilty? He felt even guiltier to say… no. That wasn't it. He felt… something. Like how he felt when Stan was there. Kyle shook his head. No. Kenny was his best friend. And that was it.

He put the letters back in the box and covered them with the soldier.

_-------------------_

"I want him found, dammit!" Damien yelled at his hoard. The little demons scattered like spiders, trickling out of his sight, tails between their miserable legs. Damien growled to himself under his breath, frustrated and tense and _scared._

"Dammit, Kenny, where the _hell_ are you?" He said quietly, mostly to himself. Kenny had died, rather brutally, as well. Damien was the son of _Satan_. Pain was fun. He'd once set Pip on fire, and though he regretted it now, he had _so enjoyed it_ as a child. But this… was more than just sick satisfaction. Cartman had gone way too far. Maybe he would have made a good advisor for his father, but he'd pushed his limit right off the edge this time. He'd gone out of his way to hurt Kyle. And he'd been stupid. He'd let his idiot followers leave traces, witnesses. They were trying to keep this damn organization secret, but everyone in fucking South Park knew it was running, now! Cartman was evil, yes, to his core. But he was stupid. And that might just be enough to get him condemned to the deepest, darkest, hottest part of Hell. Damien would have relished in the thought of causing such pain to his best friend's tormentor if it hadn't been for one thing.

His best friend was missing.

He hadn't spawned in Hell after his death, and that alone had Damien worried. Kenny had been appearing back on earth long before they met, and no one really understood why. The likelihood that they ever would was pretty low, too. So of course, Damien had checked earth for signs of him.

Nothing.

Kenny was just _gone._

And Damien was frightened. There weren't many other places you could go, and rvrn fewer that _Kenny_ could go. Damien was a sinner by default, but even he shied away from admitting his fear spawned not only from a fear for his friend' soul and safety- but his own selfish loneliness, that without Kenny he would be truly alone in hell.

So he'd mobilized Hell's army to find him.  
And still- nothing.

Damien's cell phone buzzed.

Which was strange. Damien didn't have real friends. People had a tendency to avoid evil. And those who didn't were typically psychotic, devil worshipping idiots who wanted to have sex in moonlight and drink the blood of babies and stuff instead of watch cartoons and have fun. Kind of sucked. The only people who he'd ever really given his number too was his father, of course, and- Oh.

_Kenny._

Damien fumbled with his pocket, grabbing it in his hand, he squeezed his eyes shut, and took a deep breath. _Please, please be Kenny-_ Ironic. It was almost a prayer.

He opened his eyes. It was a text message. From Kenny. Damien's heart leapt. _Yes! He's okay, he's okay!_

He flipped it open.

A picture blinked onto the screen. Damien blinked. It was a picture he'd never seen before. And considering it was Pip, that was an oddity in itself.

Three words were attached to the picture. _I found Pip._

Damien stared at it. The Hell? He found _Pip_?!

Damien typed back frantically, cursing the tiny keypad. _Where?_

Silence. Buzz.

_Heaven._

Damien's heart sunk. Heaven? Pip was in hea- Wait. _Kenny_ was in heaven? Kenny barely _ever_ got into heaven. He had a nasty streak of darkness behind him a mile long. Actually, he'd been banned for a long time now, seeing as he was all buddy-buddy with the son of satan. Kind of hurts your goodness level. _Godamn angels_, Damien thought, ignoring the weirdness of the statement, _always judging a person by the company they keep. Kenny's a good person._ Not that he was complaining. It got pretty lonely in the eternal flame, you know.

Damien texted back a few times, and waited a couple of minutes with no luck and no response. Finally, he snapped his fingers.

Damien was in heaven. Saint Peter looked up, appearing tired. Like he'd been working for too long.

"Damien, get out of here."  
"I'm not coming for anybody's soul but the one I own."

Saint Peter looked at his list. Damien shook his head. Thousands of people die every day. Like he was going to find the _one soul_ he owned by looked down.

"You don't own anybody's here or they wouldn't _be_ here."  
"Kenny McCormick. Check you're list, he's mine. And I've come for Pip Pirrup, as well." He said, hoping that one might get by the old fart.

"Mm…" He looked back at his book. _Agh! STOP LOOKING AT THAT DAMN THING!_ Damien wanted to scream. He was so _close!_ Pip was _right fucking here!_ He was going to see him again! Would he be mad he set him on fire? Did humans hold grudges for that kind of stuff? He thought wildly, the only human he really talked to was Kenny, and Kenny died all the time, so he didn't really hold grudges for that sort of thing _anyway-_

"Sorry. Says here you _could_ have bought his soul, but you didn't. Poor kids too demeaning to have trailing along behind you now?" He snapped through closed teeth. Damn. Snarky ass angel, wasn't he?  
"Oh shut it. Kenny's my best friend and his soul belongs to _me._ And I laid claim on Pip when he was eight years old."

Peter shook his head, grim smile.

"First off, you may have had first dibs on the poor kid before, but self-sacrifice, as you know oh-so-well, is one of the one-way-tickets straight to heaven. Kid died for his friend- so he's _ours_ now. And we won't let a poor little lamb get eaten up." He shrugged, still smiling infuriatingly, "And as for the Pip kid, you _did_ claim him when he was eight. _But, _the kid died when he was _nine_ and you never came for his soul. So your claim has _expired._"  
Damien felt his heart catch. _Nine?_ _He died only a year after I went back to hell? Why? How!?_

"How?!" He blurted out, and lost his composure, like a frightened child.

Peter must have seen that incessant fear in his eyes, gnawing at him, and reluctantly said, "He fell off a bridge."

Damien's heart sank. _Fell? Really? _And Damien bit his lip when he realized that the only bridge in South Park with water deep enough to drown someone was five miles _outside_ of town, and on a car path. Took skill to fall _off_ it, too, _I bet._

"I… Can I come in?"  
"No. You'll corrupt the holy."

"I won't corrupt the holy. I hate mormons."

"You hate! Ye demon, begone!" Peter waved his arms.

Damien sighed, "You let my dad in."

"He had permission from God."

"Well, then call God over here. I want in."  
"You can't just _call God!_ He's _busy!_" Peter cried, horrified.

"Yeah, well, I'm important. So tell him to get his holy ass over here."

Peter mumbled something along the lines of _so disrespectful!_ But pulled a phone out and dialed a number. After a moment, he set it down.  
It was quiet.

And ka-poof! God was there. _Just like God, with his magic tricks-_ Damien thought bitterly.

"Did you want to see me?"

"I wanna see Kenny."  
"Kenny is mine, now, child, you know that."

Damien bit his lip, "Can I at least talk to him? Kenny's my _friend,_ you can _ask_ him."

After a moment, God nodded. "As you wish."

The gates swung open.

_--------------_

Turns out, there were a lot of sad things in Kenny's room. Or maybe they weren't really sad themselves; it was just that Kyle was sad that made it all seem a whole lot sadder. Like the disc he found on top of Kenny's duct-taped CD player, labeled, '_Romanian opera for entrance exams.' _Kyle stared at it for a moment. How weird. Wait- Kenny took chorus, right? Kyle vaguely remember Kenny mentioning it awhile ago… Or did he? He popped the disc in.

Kenny was very good. No, more than that. Kenny was amazing. The way he sang was strong, powerful- but at the same time, it had this bittersweet sorrow seeping into the vowels, and Kyle closed his eyes for a moment, listening. Why didn't Kenny ever sing like this at school or anything? Kyle had never heard him sing before. He wondered why.

He found Kenny's diary, too, placed neatly between Kenny's mattress and the floor, tucked away. Kyle wouldn't have known it was there if he hadn't lifted it up trying to get a sheet on, finally driven to madness by the mess.

He pulled it out cautiously, almost afraid to open it up. _God dang, he kept a _diary?_ That really is gay._ He shook his head against the thought. How cruel.

He opened it up to the first page. There were a lot of confused, scribbled out sentences. There was no date. He read what he could, the parts that hadn't been angrily marked out.

_I don't really know why the hell I'm writing this. The internet said that writing shit down helped out with frustration and stuff, right? Okay, Kenny, just do it. At least it's cheaper than a shrink. _

_Well, I guess I could say that my dad hit me today. No biggie, I just got smacked in the head with a beer bottle. I didn't die or anything at least. _

_God, I hate dying! It's no fun. I mean sure, hanging out with Damien is great and stuff, since at least it's just him and me and I don't always feel like such a third wheel, but dying _sucks!_ It hurts like hell and no one ever cares._

_Oh no, Kenny got hit by a car again. Oh no, Kenny fell off a building. Oh no, Kenny caught fire and torched my favorite curtains! Selfish little bastard!_

_And it's not like I can help it. I just die! I don't _want_ to die, I just do. People are supposed to be sad when you die, right? People are supposed to _care!_ Not blame you for it, or yell at you. I just want someone to miss me…_

Kyle felt guilty, and started flipping through the pages. He noted that the first couple of entries were really structured, like Kenny had some sort of mental idea that and entry into a diary had to be very exact. Later on, it broke up into scribbles, short entries and bits of poetry. Notes and thoughts and things to remember. It really was inside Kenny's head. He stopped on a page in the middle. There was a neat little doodle of some very perky breasts in the corner, and Kyle idly thought Kenny was a pretty decent artist.

_Sports today. Showered. Very embarrassing. Craig caught me staring at Kyle. Damn him, he was gonna tell him, too! To make him shut the hell up I had to_

Kyle blushed at the graphic detail of next sentence. He'd never known Craig was such a sadistic pervert. And wasn't Craig with Bebe?

He scanned the page, and settled on a little snippet of poetry scrawled upside down on the bottom. He flipped the book over to read it.

_Poor little kid with the fight in your eyes_

_But the death of one so young sadly comes at no surprise_

_Oh god, if you're listening- why is it the good kid who always dies?_

_Oh but sadder still, if you're listening- why can't I?_

Kyle put it away.

Why did everything in here seem so damn depressing? Even Kenny's poor old broken PSP with the cracks all over the poor shattered screen made him queasy. Kyle idly checked Kenny's closet. One extra hoodie. Just one? One change of clothes? Damn. No wonder Kenny always smelled funny. Then, Kyle did a double take, looking at Kenny's neon orange curtains. The same neon orange as his jacket. And pants. There was a large portion missing from them. Kenny _had_ taken Home ec for awhile…

He stared at those curtains for a long time.

_-------------_

The sun came up eventually, as it always seemed to do.

For Stan though, it seemed strange. Why would the sun rise, and yet everything still felt so… dark?

He looked back down at the cell phone in his hand. Nothing.

He'd slept for a few hours, had a nightmare, shoved himself out of bed, and was currently taking intermittent naps in a chair propped up by his window. He had a good view of Kenny's house from here.

And he'd tried calling Kenny's cell. It was sort of a frightened, impulsive decision. But the number had _rung_. That meant Kenny had his phone with him, or Kyle would have picked it up. So wherever Kenny was, he had his phone. But he wouldn't answer. NO texts, no calls, nothing. No response.

So that's what he had been doing. Call, text, sleep, wake up, check phone, call text, sleep, repeat.

He heard the door open and slam shut downstairs, and knew it was just about time to start something. He grabbed the thin little suitcase filled with some bare necessities for just himself. He'd thrown in enough stuff into his car for him, Kyle _and _Ike earlier that night. And, of course, a little bit extra, just in case. _In case of Kenny._

But Stan couldn't shake the feeling that they wouldn't see Kenny.

He waited, knowing what was coming. His parents were so predictable.

"Stan!" His dad's voice came echoing up the stairs, "Stan, your mom and me are home. Come downstairs and do the dishes or something."

Stan took a deep breath. _Angsty gay teenager with loss issues. Okay. You can do this._ _Just think it, strong as you can, and you'll feel it. Okay. Ready? Steady? No? Go!_

"Fuck you!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. _Kyle's dead Kyle's dead Kyle's dead-_

"What the _hell_ did you just say to me, Stanley Marsh?!" Yelled his dad, taken aback and surprised.

"I said _Fuck you_, you insensitive bastard!" _Kyle's dead Kyle's dead Kyle's dead-_ He shoved the door open, suitcase in hand.

"Jesus, Stan, come on! What the hell are you talking about?" Stan went towards the stairs, fast as he could without running. _Like a little broken soldier in a little pool of blood Kyle's dead Kyle's dead Kyle's dead._

"I'm talking about _Kyle_, god damn _you!_" He screamed, now running down the stairs. He shoved his dad out of the way.

"Oh, come- come on, Stan! For Christ's sake, we said you could go out with the kid, what the hell _else_ do you want from me?" He was obviously confused and startled.

_Kyle's dead Kyle's dead- beaten up in the dark with a thousand witnesses who did nothing and didn't care bloody little thing didn't even look real didn't want it to be real Kyle's dead Kyle's dead Kyle's dead KYLE'S DEAD LIKE KENNY- _"KYLE'S DEAD YOU BASTARD!" He screamed this time, and stormed out the door.  
"Wh- what?!"

"And I can't take it here anymore!" He slammed in shut, and made a break for his car. He was almost surprised that he made the ten feet to it. He slung the suitcase in, shut the door, and switched it into reverse. _Kyle's dead just like Kenny shot down and kicked and thrown in the fires and he won't ever get up_

Stan swerved out into the road, and shot forward, feeling tears spring out to the corners of his eyes. _Goddamn it- it didn't want to believe it _that_ much…_ He saw Kyle sitting out on the curb, in Kenny's jacket. He screeched to a stop and pushed the door open.

"Get in-" Kyle did, and quickly.

They hit the road.

--------------------

Draik: Okay, officially longest chapter.

Kenny: …Why do they care that I'm in heaven?

Draik: Shhhh… I was going to put that in this chapter, but I wanted to put it up. It'll start the next one. :3

Stan: Why am I such a douchebag? 0.o

Draik: Um… actually, you weren't even in this chapter so much as Kyle was.

Stan: But- I had the bit at the beginning.

Draik: A short bit.

Stan: But a douchey bit.

Draik: …

Kyle: Why am I so depressed? 0_o

Draik: Well, that's because-

Stan: Answer me, dammit!

Draik: That would be because of Kenny being dead and stuff.

Kyle: I thought I didn't know that.

Draik: um…

Stan: Haha.

Draik: Um, you… know it subconsciously, but won't consciously face your fear of having lost someone so close to you forever? Like a mental brace placed around the thought, because you're afraid that if you think it, it will be real?

Kyle: …Well okay then.

Damien: And _why_ in the name of god am I such a pussy?

Stan: He kind of is.

Damien: Don't make me smite you.

Draik: No friends for you! Silence, mortal!

Damien: …dude.

Draik: ...oh, yeah. Right. Heheh.

Kyle: Thanks for reading!

Stan: Don't forget to review!!

Kenny: Because reviews make happy writers, and happy writers write about the miracle that is _meeeeee!_

Draik: Sheddup Kenny, geddoff my spotlight. *beams with a mango*

Kenny: X_x


	7. Soul like Snow

Broken Toy Soldier

_Little toy soldier, stand up straight._

_Little toy soldier, know your fate._

And there he was.

Pip. He was just standing there. Funny, Damien had expected something… else. Like what? Flower petals from the sky and pretty music? This was real life.

He took a step forward, and Pip looked back at him. Damien paused. Had Pip always looked so… breakable?

"Pip? Pip Pirrup?" He said, like an idiot. Yeah. _He knows he's Pip, you idiot._

"Yes? Oh my, Damien, is that you?" He said, blinking. Damien felt his heart lift.

"I- Pip- I-" He stuttered, unsure of what to say, "I'm sorry I set you on fire!" He blurted out suddenly. Shit. Probably not the best thing to mention.

Pip didn't respond.

Damien's heart sank.

"Pip, please, I just-" Kenny came into view. He had obviously been talking with Pip all this time. Damien paused, feeling for the first time in his entire life like a scared little kid.

"Damien. I'm going back with you." Something was wrong with Kenny. He looked very, very lost in thought. Glassy. Kenny had always had these sad eyes, even when he was a kid, Damien thought. Sure, they were that perfect shade of blue to light up a room when he was happy, and Kenny could be happy a lot- but there was always this sadness to them. He'd smile and smile and smile but it never fully reached his eyes. And right now, Damien saw nothing in them. Not even sadness. Frankly, he thought it was kind of scary.

"Kenny, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I want to go to hell now."

"I… um, Pip?" He said, suddenly feeling sheepish and small.

"Oh, um, well, I'm sorry, Damien, but I, well, I do believe I'd like to, um, stay here. Kenny's told me everything there is to the situation, but I just… You set me on fire, Damien. I don't really want to go to hell."

Damien's face fell, too.

"I… oh. Then… I… Come on, Kenny…" Damien turned, but looked back when he heard Kenny's voice pick up. Kenny was turning to face Pip, but the quick flash of Kenny's eyes that Damien saw had emotion. He felt something right now. Damien wondered why Kenny was so off.

"Pip- I want you to know one thing. I'm Damien's best friend but that doesn't mean I would shit you into something like this. He's an asshole and I know it. But I want you to know _one thing._" Kenny's voice wavered, "If you feel _anything_ about him, _anything_ at all- then you better forgive him. _Because if you don't you will regret it forever._"

With that, Kenny turned, grabbed Damien by the hand, and started for the gates. "Let's go." Damien hesitated, about to snap his fingers and bring them back, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"I… I didn't fall, exactly…" Pip admitted quietly. Damien's face softened, and he pulled his hand away from Kenny to put it on Pip's.

"I know. And if that was my fault… even a little… I swear, I'll make it up to you."

Pip smiled.

"Okay."  
Kenny's face didn't change, even when Damien kissed Pip, but he knew exactly how this would play out.

Damien wasn't going to be lonely anymore.

Kenny would die, come to visit Damien, and he'd be busy.

Just like Kyle.

Kenny was alone again.

Damien snapped his fingers, and they went back to hell. Kenny probably would have felt guilty about ruining their perfect moment together, but he was busy. Kenny had something he had to do and he was going to do it.

Damien turned his head as Kenny stormed out of the room in a desperate hurry. He noted where he was going, and growing suddenly alarmed, grabbed Pip by the hand, and gave chase to his blank little friend.

His father, Satan, was sitting at the kitchen table in a pink bathrobe eating a bowl of Hell-o's, He looked up from his newspaper when Kenny came into the room. Kenny pointed a finger at him, and cried out with utter resolution:

"Lucifer, Ruler of the underworld, I want to sell you my soul in exchange for the lives of Kyle Broflowski and Stan Marsh."

_Little toy soldier, shirt stained red,_

_Little toy soldier, fall down dead._

"Kyle-"

"Sh… Ike finally fell asleep." Kyle was stroking his little brother's hair softly. He was curled up in his lap, fast asleep. Stan dropped his voice to a whisper.

"Kyle, I think we have to stop for the night. I'm way to tired to drive, I'll end up killing us all." He gestured to his empty coffee cup. It was about ten at night now, and they'd been driving straight out from South Park since that morning.

"Mm. I think you're right. It's kind of been a long day."

"It's Thanksgiving." Stan suddenly remembered.

Kyle looked startled, "My god, I forgot."

"Damn. What a shitty holiday."  
"We should order room service."  
"Not enough cash."

"I… actually…" Kyle pulled an envelope out of his pocket. He pulled a small wad of cash out of it. Stan stared at it for a moment.  
"Where'd you get that?" He blurted out, then turned onto an exit ramp.

"I… Kenny. It was in his pocket with a note."

Kyle shuffled around his Kenny-jacket pockets again, and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "I found this in his pocket and read it. I have no idea how long it's been here, though."

"What's it say?"

"'To whoever the hell is reading shit from my pockets-'"

"Sounds like Kenny."

"Mm. 'there's a pile of cash in here. If you stole my jacket, then you probably don't give shit about what I have to say about you using it. Well, I get you. I'd probably steal a _neon orange parka from a kid whose parents beat him too._ I hope you feel like an asshole.

'On the flip side, if you're Stan or Kyle, chances are some shit is going down. Who knows. If I'm dead, I'll meet up with you later. Don't spend my money. But if something seriously bad is happening, then you know it. If I'm dead for real, and the way things have been going lately, that ain't too far off- I want you to just take it, okay? Seriously. This cash is my stash. It's untraceable and in all the increments I could get my hands on. I don't know why I gave it to you or why you needed it, but you're covered.

'Just don't forget me.'"

"...Huh."

"You could be more descriptive."

"…Huh."

Stan pulled into a cheap-looking motel. Ike stirred in Kyle's lap, then curled up, head pressed against his older brother's chest. Poor kid looked lonely.

Stan pulled the car to a stop, paused, looked at Ike, looked at Kyle, and asked, "Should I carry him?" Kyle frowned.  
"He's kind of heavy."

"I'm stronger than you are. Here, just grab the bag behind you head. It's got a change of clothes and a couple of toothbrushes." Stan got out of the car, circled, and picked up Ike. Who really wasn't very heavy. He shifted, whined a little bit, mumbled something, rubbed his eyes, then cuddled neatly into Stan's shoulder and went back to sleep.

"Hey… Stan…?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you alright?"  
"…I'm fine."

"No, really. Something's up with you," Kyle pulled the bag out of the back seat, "And it's starting to bother me too. Kenny always comes back, Stan."

"I just… I think something's _wrong_ this time. I don't trust his judgment." Stan shifted Ike in his arms, and they went to go get a room.

"What do you mean?"  
"I mean I think he's gonna do something really, really stupid."

"Like _what?_ What the hell could he do?"  
"Well, for one, have you ever heard him mention 'Damien?'"

"Um, yeah, I guess." He pushed the door open, "Why?"  
"Well, do you remember that kid who came to school for like a day back when we were eight? Damien? Son of Satan?"  
"Eh, kind of."

"Well what if it's the same kid, and Kenny's been going to hell every time he dies? What if he just… stays there? I mean, he's been pretty depressed lately…"  
Kyle frowned and bit his lip, "He… Kenny wouldn't do that."

Stan shook his head, "I think he would. I don't think you get just _how_ depressed he's been. Have you ever seen Kenny cry?" Kyle shook his head, "I have."

"I… I don't want to," _want to think about that?_ Stan thought almost bitterly, "to… let's just get a room okay?"

Stan nodded thoughtfully. He had a terrible feeling about the last time he'd seen Kenny die, and a very bad feeling about what Kenny was capable of doing.

_Little toy soldier, with eyes that tell all,_

_Little toy soldier, who will take the fall,_

"Kenny…?" Damien asked quietly, horrified. Kenny'd been in hell long enough to know what he was about to do, so Damien couldn't figure out why he was doing it.

"I don't want it anymore. Just take it." Kenny repeated, eyes dark.

"Get out of here, Kenny, I don't want your soul." Damien's father said, and sipped his coffee, without taking his eyes off of his paper.

Kenny slammed his hands down on the table, "God damn you, you will take this thing from me and save them!" He yelled. Damien stepped forward and grabbed Kenny roughly by the shoulder and spun him around.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you idiot?!"

Kenny snarled back at him, "I suppose you're gonna tell me I got too much to live for or some shit like that, right?"

"Fuck, Kenny!" Damien shoved him, "You fucking do! Why the hell do you have to go be a fucking hero _right now?!_"

Kenny stumbled back, catching his footing, "Because I checked with Peter, you douchebag! Kyle and Stan are marked to _die_ this week!"

Damien's heart sunk suddenly, and he felt just a little bit less angry, "What?"

"They're marked to die by _Friday._ And I'm already dead."

"Fuck, Kenny!" Damien yelled, stepped forward and shoved Kenny again, "I'm not gonna let you do this!"

Kenny slammed his fist into Damien's face, a lot harder than Damien ever knew he could. He stumbled backward at the impact, tripped, and fell down, covering his bloody nose with both hands.

"Hell, Damien." Kenny choked out bitterly, "You should fucking know by now that I wasn't living for anythin' anyway."

"Dammith, Kenneh-" Damien snorted, swallowing and glaring up at him, "You brode mah nothe-"

"Like you can't fix it up all pretty again."

"Fug you, Kenneh."

"Yeah. Go ahead and hate me, 'cuz I already hate myself." He snarled, and turned around. "I wanna make a fucking deal, Satan!"

"Kenneh! Fug, Kenneh, dun't do id!"

"Deal, then."

"Dad!"

"Shut the hell up, you little asshole," Satan yelled, dropping his paper and standing up.

"Fine, Kenny. I'll take your soul instead of their lives. Now get the fuck out of here. You're listed in heaven right now, so I'm sending you back up. You get yourself killed so that you get sent to Hell. Then you're _mine_."

Kenny nodded, resolute.

"No… Kenneh…" Damien said under his breath. Kenny faded away.

_Little toy soldier, eyes cast down,_

_Little toy soldier, you're gonna drown._

Stan was driving. They were already in West Virginia, straddling the state line. They were almost to DC, where they planned on trying to get into the pentagon. Given, it seemed like a stupid idea, but, as Stan recalled, most of their stupid ideas ended up working. So this appeared to be the easiest route.

And that was when, in the backseat, Ike screamed like a little girl.

"Holy, _shit,_ Ike, are you okay?!" Kyle yelled, turning around to check on his panicking little brother.

And came face-to-face with Kenny, who had just respawned back there, and was currently trying to figure out how Stan's car's seat belts worked.

"Eh? Well, hi Kenny." Kyle said cautiously. Didn't Kenny usually pop up in less obvious places? Well, it wasn't the first time. Kyle shrugged it off.

"Kenny? The hell, when did you get here?" Stan asked, turning around as well.

"Shit dude, eyes on the road!" Kenny cried, plastering himself to the seat suddenly in mock terror.

"Oh, right."

"Seriously, Kenny, where've you been all this time? We were starting to worry." Kyle laughed lightly, as if he were joking. Kenny's eyes lit up a little. But it looked like there was something wrong with them. What was it? Kyle paused, trying to see.

"Oh, you know. Terrance and Phillip marathon, the works."

"Oh, you're kidding me! We're up here working our asses of to save the damn jews- eh, sorry Kyle- and you're watching cartoons?" Stan was laughing too, more from relief though. As long as Kenny didn't say he had been writing a will, Stan was happy.

"What the hell just happened?" Ike cried out suddenly, flustered, pressed against the far side of the car, away from Kenny.

"Don't say hell, Ike."

"You get to say hell."

"I'm seventeen."

"But- Kenny just- he went poof." Ike finished suddenly, unsure of the wording. Kenny shrugged.

"I do that."

"He does that." Kyle and Stan supported.

Well, it was true. Kenny did do that. But it didn't make it _normal._ Ike looked wary, and eyed Kenny carefully.

"Uhm… how?"

"I dunno." Kenny leaned back, kicked his feet up, and closed his eyes.

"Oh, come on, you can sleep when your dead, Kenny."

"Actually, you can't. You don't sleep when you're dead."

"You know what I mean. Don't go to sleep, we've been freaking out over where the hell you were since yesterday."

Kenny opened one eye, "You guys were _worried_ about me?"

"Is no one freaked out about this?!" Ike cried, exasperated and ignored.

"No, not really. Er, well, no Kenny, that was directed toward Ike," he added when Kenny made a mock-tears gesture, "Duh we were worried. How'd you die, anyway?"

Kenny didn't say anything for a few seconds. "Electric fence. Got me on the way out. Hey, Stan, thanks."

"…No problem, Kenny." Stan shrugged. Kyle looked confused.

"Thanks for what?"

"Admitting he was wrong about the light bulb thing- I'm totally right, it really would take three of you!"

"Oh, shut the hell up, Kenny!"

"Why do you get to say hell?!" Ike whined suddenly, agitated.

"I'm older than you, Ike. Now put a sock in it."

"Not fair."

"Nope."

"Hey, it's pretty late." Stan interjected.

"I'll drive if you want. I'm not _that_ tired." Kenny offered, sitting up.

"No, we're almost there. But it's kind of late to break into the pentagon, we should wait until tomorrow morning. We should stop off at another motel."

"Sounds good to me."

"Yeah, and Ike can room with Kenny this time." Stan raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Ewwwwww!" Ike cried, horrified.

"Gah! Stan!" Kyle's face flushed.

"Oh, come on. Ike, you're what, twelve?"

"But- but- Staaaaaaan!" Ike whined, shuddering, "You're a boooooooy! And Kyle's my brotheeeeeer! It's just creepy."

"Pff. Ike, if I remember right, you were doing your _kindergarten_ teacher."

Ike blushed, "That's different! At least she was a girl!"

"Sorry, Ike. But your brother's just about as cute as can be. Cuter than any _girl_ out there anyway." He leaned over and kissed Kyle full on the lips, earning another squeal from poor Ike, who now looked like he might explode.

"Ew, Stan! Cut it ouuuut!"

Kyle's face flushed again. It did that a lot, Stan noted. Again, very cute.

"No way. You're just gonna have to live with it." He looked up and waggled his eyebrows in the mirror at Ike. Ike just shuddered, but Stan caught Kenny's eyes by accident. Kenny looked down suddenly, and made a lewd comment to Ike that caused him to clap his hands over his ears and scream 'LALALA' at the top of his lungs.

What was that? Stan turned back to the road, disturbed. There was something wrong in Kenny's eyes. You see, Kenny had always had these sad eyes…

_Little toy soldier, please don't die,_

_Little toy soldier, open your eyes,_

Kenny crept over to the door to his and Ike's room. Did he hear Kyle? He had to be quiet, or he would wake Ike up. He listened at the door for a moment. Silence. He weighed his options. He was going to die tomorrow, so if it _was_ Kyle, he really ought to talk to him alone, anyway. He took a deep breath, and cracked the door open to look out into the hallway. And there he was.

Kyle was leaning against the wall, just next to his own door. He looked very sad. Kenny squeezed out of the door, trying not to let the light hit Ike, then shut it and went to sit next to Kyle.

"Hey, Kenny." Kyle sighed as Kenny sat down.

"What's wrong?"

"I had a fight with Stan." Kyle was hugging his knees.

"D'you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

"I'm sorry, Kyle."

"Mm."

"Hey, Kyle?"

"Mm?"

"Don't interrupt me, okay? Just hear me out." Kyle nodded.

Kenny took a deep, cleansing breath, "I just want to say that you don't have to do _anything_ about me. I know I've kind of screwed things up for you and Stan, and I know you feel bad for me," Kenny noticed he was hugging his legs, too, "I can see it in your eyes. But you don't have to. I'm happy just being your friend, and I'm happy for you too. Okay?"  
Kyle nodded, and looked down.

"You're a good friend, Kenny."

"I hope so." Kenny smiled lightly.

They were quiet for awhile.

"Kyle?"

"Yeah?"

"If I stayed dead, would you miss me?"

"Of course I would. I don't know what I would do if you died for real."

Kenny felt kind of guilty, "Okay." He paused, "You can keep the jacket."

Kyle frowned, "Wait a minute. If I was wearing your jacket when you died, how come your still wearing the same jacket-" he pointed at his shirt "-At the same time as me?"

"I… I honestly don't know."

"Ha… That's kind of funny."

"Now if only that stack of money would double, too." Kenny smiled, shrugging.

"Oh, here, I forgot about that." Kyle pulled out the stack and tried to hand it to Kenny, who just shook his head.

"No, keep it. I don't need it anymore."

Kyle frowned, "Why?"

"I… Well, it _was_ for college?"

"Was? Why was?"

"I'm not really cut out for college, you know?"

"Why do you say that?"

"I'm… Well, I guess I'm just not smart enough," Kenny sighed, closing his eyes, "Even if I could get in, I can't _pay_ for it. College is expensive, and I've still got to make enough money to support Karen, and- shit!" He swore suddenly. _Karen._ He hadn't even thought about her. _How the hell am I supposed to keep Karen afloat if I'm dead?!_

"She's with your uncle, right?"

Kenny smiled grimly, "Uncle, right. Uncle owed-me-a-favor anyway."

"Who'd you leave her with?" Kyle asked, worried.

Kenny shook his head, "I trust him. But definitely _not_ my uncle. I've got to send money to him every month though, for her living expenses. I wanted to send her a dress for her birthday this month, too…" Kenny got a very far-away look, and stared up at the ceiling.

Kyle stared back at the carpet.

"I'm sure she'll be fine…"

"You wouldn't be if you knew her."

Kyle bit his lip. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"I am, though."

Kenny didn't respond.

"You wouldn't forget me?"

"Never. Why are you so stuck on this?" Kyle asked. Kenny shook his head.

"No reason."

"Don't shit me. Something's up with you. What did you do?"

"I… I didn't do anything."

"You're lying."

"No I'm not!"

"I can see it in your eyes, dammit. Don't lie to me, what did you do?" Kyle accused, sliding his feet out and leaning over to look Kenny in the eyes.

Kenny, panicking, pushed himself forward and pressed his lips against Kyle. Kenny's breath caught in his chest- _what did I just do?_ He lingered for a moment on the taste, wanting to remember it, since he would never taste it again. He was going to die tomorrow, for real. At least he would remember this… So warm, feathery. Kyle had soft lips, almost like a girl, and Kenny made sure to remember that Kyle tasted like sweet peaches. For just a brief moment, his aching heart didn't so bad, and he saw the Sparks. Kenny had never really believed in Sparks, but he'd head of them. When you were with the person you were meant to fall in love with, you would see the Sparks. Kenny had always chocked that up to cheesy romantic fibs, but he had been wrong. His heart stopped for just one second, and Kenny tore himself away, fleeing back to his room.

_Little toy soldier, please get back on,_

_Little toy soldier, you're already gone._

Kenny stared ahead.

They were standing in front of the pentagon, now. Kyle hadn't spoken to him all morning, and Kenny was panicking internally. On the outside, he wasn't even going to acknowledge what he'd done. But it was eating him up inside, and he didn't know if he could stand it.

_Hell… Hell, Hell, Hell…_ He thought absently, _How to get myself into Hell…_ Well, suicide would do it. Best way to go, really. Kenny patted the handgun in his pocket. Thank God _that_ hadn't popped up in Kyle's pocket. Kenny wasn't sure why it hadn't. Then again, he didn't even know why he kept dying in the first place. _Gotta chop off these damn wings…_

"So, should we try to reason with them, first?" Stan asked, watching a person with a business suit and a flippant attitude emerge from the building.

"Doesn't really work. Ever. But we should always try it." Kenny supplied, shrugging.

"Are we gonna die?" Ike asked suddenly, causing all three boys to stare at him.

"Die? Why would we die?"

"It's scary. I have a bad feeling." Ike said, eyes wide as he stared at the building, "Like one of us is going to die today."

_Holy shit, when did Ike get psychic?? Well, he _is_ related to Kyle- wait a minute, no he's not! He couldn't possibly-_

"Ike, me and Stan will be fine, okay? We always are, and we've done way crazier things."

"What about Kenny?" Ike pointed one stubby finger at his orange clad friend.

Kenny paused, trying to avert his eyes without looking away, "I always come back. So it doesn't matter if I die."

"Of course it matters. Doesn't it hurt if you die?"

Kenny paused, "Yeah. Every time. But at least it doesn't leave scars, right?"

"No, I mean it hurts your heart."

Kenny didn't know how to respond. He felt his heart hurting _right now_ because he knew Ike was just so right, and he couldn't tell them or they would stop him.

But he didn't want to lie, either. He just didn't feel like lying right now. His heart couldn't take too much more. So he just ignored the comment. "Let's go inside." He started for the door.

_Broken toy soldier, you've been left behind,_

_Broken toy soldier, have they really been so unkind?_

Kenny sat on the asphalt, annoyed. They'd been kicked out of the pentagon again. _Again._

Well, if they wanted to talk to the secretary of defense, they'd have to break in. And if Kenny remembered correctly, it was absurdly easy for children to break into the pentagon. Especially near sector 2.

So they set out do so, following Kyle, since he'd done it before. They wandered the supposedly TOP SECRET (seeing as this was plastered all over the walls) corridors, searching for some sign of life. Well, important life. They passed several nervous interns.

"Kenny-" Kyle started. Kenny and Stan both looked at him.

"I'll never forgive you if you do something stupid." So. Kyle wasn't so oblivious after all.

Kenny smiled grimly, "You don't have too. I'll have already done it."

Stan looked really confused, but Kenny just didn't feel like telling him. They'd gang up on him. And he was _going_ to die today, one way or another. But Kenny really, really wanted to make sure they got in without being horribly maimed or hurt before he let his soul go, because Kenny knew how this stuff worked. They lived, but they'd be missing limbs or something. And Kenny wasn't going to let _that_ happen.

"Stop! You aren't authorized to be here!" A voice cried. Kenny turned around.

"_Finally_, somebody we can talk too! _Take us too your leader, argh!_" Kenny cried, wiggling his fingers like an idiot. The guard hefted his gun toward him. Kenny shrugged.

The guard was about to yell something, but the alarms began to blare. The hell?

Kenny looked up, confused. What was going on? The guard listened to his headset. "We're under attack!" He blurted, and aimed his gun, "You three are under arrest for conspiracy."

Oh, Christ. They _had_ to break into the pentagon the _same day_ it got attacked. Just their luck.

"Hey, we're here to _stop_ it, if someone would _listen_ to us-" Kenny started, raising his hands, palms out.

"Hold it!" The guard yelled. Kenny stopped, damn. This could take awhile. He made sure to lean to the side just a little bit, so that at least Ike was covered. Ike had no protection, even after Kenny died. Ike hadn't been listed, though. But Kenny _did_ have a tendency to mess up the list when he came back…

Then, bullets went flying through the hallway. The guard dropped dead, and Kenny's jaw dropped. _Oh, shit-_

Then, a huge charge of Cartman's lackeys came flying down the hallway.

"_Fuck! _RUN!" Kenny screamed, and shoved Kyle, who was holding Ike's hand. Stan scooped up the terrified little Ike in his arms, and Kyle bolted after him. Kenny stumbled, almost tripping, trying to keep up the frightened pace. Bullets whizzed just past them, _way_ to close.

They slid behind a corner, and kept going, full speed.

_Broken toy soldier, they're all long gone,_

_Broken toy soldier, face the sad facts, they've all moved on._

"Dammit, is Cartman trying to take over the _world_ or what?!?" Kyle shouted above the noise of the gunfire behind them. Kenny didn't bother answering him, and Stan was starting to fall behind, carrying Ike.

Kenny skidded around another corner, but a bullet still managed to zip past him, grazing his arms. He hissed and grabbed at it. A tiny bit of blood began to trickle out.

Dammit- I can't die yet- Not when they're in danger-

"We have to find a room we can hide in!" He yelled above the noise. Why the _hell_ were they being chased, anyway?!

Then Stan yelled from behind them, "But aren't they locked? We're in the godamned pentagon!"

Kenny swore, Fuck, he was right.

But if you can't find a door, make one yourself! Kenny shoved himself into the first door he saw.

To his surprise, it was open. He stumbled in, hit the wall, and fell over.

_Broken little boy, with so much left to fear,_

_Broken little boy, who isn't wanted here,_

"We just have to chill here for a little while." Kenny said, pressed against the door. He had one hand pressed against the top of his head. He'd hit it pretty hard, and he was bleeding. Dammit- any other time he would just die and come back. Sure would help his fading cognitive abilities…

"I can't believe Cartman would take it this far. Fucking hell…" Stan swore, shaking his head.

"I know, it's crazy." Ike was clinging to Kyle, terrified beyond all imagination.

"Hey, guys." Kenny said after a moment. Damn, he was _really_ bleeding. Was he going to get a concussion? Fuck, he really hoped it didn't kill him.

Stan and Kyle looked up. Ike just kept his head buried in Kyle's shirt.

"This probably isn't the best time, but I think you ought to know something."

Kyle's face fell. He knew what Kenny was about to say, didn't he? Kenny so wished he didn't have to say it. But fuck, everyone would be a lot better off without him around anyway. He was just holding them back…

"I'm not coming back this time."

_Broken little boy, too hollowed out to cry,_

_Broken little boy- it's time to say goodbye._

Stan balked, "_What?_"

Kenny shook his head sadly, "I made a deal with the devil."  
Kenny cringed at Kyle's stricken look, "You did _what?_ Why?!?"

Kenny bit his lip. "I made a trade for your lives. You were supposed to die today…"

"Dammit, Kenny, this is _not okay!_"

"Yeah, I know," Kenny laughed. It was almost funny. Why was it funny? "I wasn't going to say anything, but I was afraid you guys wouldn't miss me if you thought I would come back. But I won't."

"Kenny-"

"Time to go." Kenny said when all was silent outside. He shoved the door open, and darted into the hallway. Stan and Kyle followed in hot pursuit, Ike in tow.

_Poor little angel, did you ever stop to think,_

Kenny was outright _running._ He was way faster than Stan or Kyle, and he knew it. He wanted to get away. He didn't want them to see.

But he stumbled over a dead body, and he felt his face pale. It was one of the interns they'd past earlier. _Damn… Cartman is fucking serious…_

"Kenny!" He heard his name shouted, and Kyle grabbed his arm.

"Don't _do_ this, Kenny! Please!" Kyle's eyes were pleading, but Kenny had already made up his mind.

_Poor little angel, you might not had been on the brink,_

Damien stared at the scene in the fire, holding Pip's hand tightly.

"No… Kenny… Please. Just _don't do this!_" he yelled suddenly at the image, even though there was no way Kenny could hear him. Pip hung his head, and Damien cried for his friend, who was never going to wake up.

_Poor little angel, always ready with a fist-_

Just then, one of Cartman's lackeys came back, and took aim. Kenny cried out, and shoved Kyle out of the way desperately.

It wasn't like the movies. Nothing went in slow motion. He didn't see his life flash before his eyes. It was fast. It was bloody.

_Poor little angel - you didn't think that you'd be missed._

It was over as soon as Stan rammed himself into Kenny, and took the bullet for him.

_Poor little soul, why weren't you able to see, _

_Poor little soul, just what you meant to me?_

_Poor little soul, choking on words not spoken,_

_Poor little soul, you're just so broken…_

-------------------------------

Draik: So. This was a hard chapter to do, because I really wanted to give everyone a happy ending _after_ I had already started. So it was kind of hard. The next chapter will, yes, be the very last one. But trust me when I say it wraps up nicely. A pretty, bitter-sweet ending with tears and smiles.

Also, on a lighter note, I would like to mention that after I submitted the last chapter, I went to bed, and then just sat up and panicked and yelled _Oh my god, they forgot Ike!_ Because I never wrote them in picking up poor little Ike. XD So I hope that it just looks like that's a given, and you should know that. *shifty eyes* Oh well. So do so hope you've enjoyed it so far, because I know I have. :) And the more reviews that this chapter gets, even ones that don't say anything but 'Squee!' or some such, the longer it will be. ^^

I love all of my beautiful supporters, and do so hope that you'll stick around for the big wrap up.

PS- Emo-Nerdy-Insane-Writer, no that wasn't part of the song/poem bit thing. It doesn't follow the same rules. It was just a little thing I wrote while watching 'A Walk to Remember' and thought it was perfect for hiding in Kenny's diary.

**I LOVE YOU ALL. YOU ROCK SO MUCH.**


	8. The End

Broken Toy Soldier

_Little toy soldier, stand up straight._

_Little toy soldier, know your fate._

_Little toy soldier, shirt stained red,_

_Little toy soldier, fall down dead._

_Little toy soldier, with eyes that tell all,_

_Little toy soldier, who will take the fall,_

_Little toy soldier, eyes cast down,_

_Little toy soldier, you're gonna drown._

_Little toy soldier, please don't die,_

_Little toy soldier, open your eyes,_

_Little toy soldier, please get back on,_

_Little toy soldier, you're already gone._

_Broken toy soldier, you've been left behind,_

_Broken toy soldier, have they really been so unkind?_

_Broken toy soldier, they're all long gone,_

_Broken toy soldier, face the sad facts, they've all moved on._

_Broken little boy, with so much left to fear,_

_Broken little boy, who isn't wanted here,_

_Broken little boy, too hollowed out to cry,_

_Broken little boy- it's time to say goodbye._

_Poor little angel, did you ever stop to think,_

_Poor little angel, you might not had been on the brink,_

_Poor little angel, always ready with a fist-_

_Poor little angel - you didn't think that you'd be missed._

_Poor little soul, why weren't you able to see,_

_Poor little soul, just what you meant to me?_

_Poor little soul, choking on words not spoken,_

_Poor little soul, you're just so broken…_

Life isn't fair.

_But I guess it doesn't have to be._

This was what Kenny thought as he stood in front of the grave, quiet little casket going down into the earth. Stan had been such a great person- a good friend, a good boyfriend, a strong person- he hadn't deserved to die. But die he had. Kenny choked back a quiet sob, and stared down at his feet, unable to watch.

Kenny ripped the gun out of his pocket, and let a bullet tear through Cartman's follower. He made a quiet choking noise, and his legs buckled. He fell down, and didn't get back up.

"_Stan! Stan!" Kenny cried, grabbing his friend, who was sliding down the wall, leaving a thin trail of blood behind him._

"_Stan…" He said quietly when Stan failed to respond, he just kept rasping air in and out of his poor, ravaged chest. "No… You're okay. You're okay. You're okay, Stan!"_

_Stan chuckled, chest heaving with the effort. Kenny held him up, desperate. "Not so okay. You kn-know that by now."_

_Kenny felt tears spring up in the corners of his eyes, "You idiot! That bullet was for me… Not for you…"_

_Stan smiled. He wasn't looking at anything anymore. Just staring blankly out. "I kind of figured. But you know… Life isn't fair. But I guess it doesn't have to be."_

_Kenny couldn't respond. He was afraid that if he said anything, he would cry. Kenny didn't cry. Kenny couldn't cry. _

"_But that's what makes it so worth living, right? Do me a favor, Kenny."_

_Kenny nodded, swallowing, "Anything."_

"_Don't forget me."_

_And Stan died._

Nothing is perfect. But if it were, life wouldn't be so interesting, would it?

After Cartman's attack on the pentagon, the military finally regarded him as a threat. They mobilized, and took out the entirety of his followers in one night. It was quick, it was clean, and it was over. But it was still too late for Stan.

After Cartman had been captured, the military transport he'd been in was raided. Cartman had disappeared, likely to attempt to start something again. But at the moment, he was still in hiding. So, for now, everything was safe.

Kyle, Kenny and Ike went back home, devastated. There had been so many tears, mostly from Stan's parents and friends. Ike, not being used to the psychosis that tended to follow Kyle and Kenny, didn't say anything for two weeks. Even after Stan's funeral, he refused to talk. They were so worried. But one day, he just asked for a juice box. Like nothing had happened. He asked Kyle if Stan was going to come over once, and that was when they realized he'd blocked off the entire thing from his mind.

But life went on, as it often seems to do.

Kyle cried a lot. Kenny would come over on those cold days when he couldn't go home, and he would find Kyle crying. He put up a good front at school, like everything was okay. But it wasn't really okay. Neither was Kyle.

But at least Kyle wasn't so far gone in grief that he couldn't survive. He knew he had to keep living- and so he did. He picked up.

No, he would never forget, or get over Stan completely. They were too close. Closer than brothers when they were kids, and even moreso in the few days before Stan had died. But to stop living would have been an insult to his memory, and so he kept on. And Kyle found that, yes, he could still be happy. Life was so short; they would see each other again soon.

Kenny stopped dieing so much after that. Not completely, no. But whereas he once would die at least once a day, he now died at most, twice a month. He didn't need Damien as a crutch anymore, and besides, Damien _was_ often busy now.

It was the first time he died after Stan that Kenny realized his deal had been breached. Stan's death had nullified the contract- his Soul was his, and he'd still managed to save Kyle. It was better than nothing.

Eventually, even though there was still Stan's loss to consider, Kenny and Kyle got together. Love is a weird thing, and it works hand in hand with Life to confuse people. But sometimes, maybe once in a century, it can be fair to one person. One good, kind person who deserves it.

Kenny hung his head. _God dammit Stan! That was meant for me… Not for you._ He thought, and the wind whipped through his hair. It was an odd sensation, one he wasn't used to, since he always had his hood up to block the wind. But his little black suit was replacing that at the moment.

And that was when Kyle broke down. He'd spent the entire service trying not to cry- but Kenny had known he couldn't make it. He was Kyle. And Stan was dead.

He put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, and felt the tears leak out of the corners of his own eyes.

"I- I don't unders-stand…" Kyle choked out, "Why S-Stan had to die!"

Kenny didn't have an answer for him.

"Kenny…?" Kyle asked, sniffling, and Kenny nodded in acknowledgement. He wasn't sure if Kyle saw, but he continued anyway. "Do you think Stan went to heaven?"

Kenny nodded, completely sure of his answer as he quoted Saint Peter himself.

"'Self-sacrifice is a one-way ticket into Heaven.'"

Indeed, that's what Stan thought as the image in the clouds shifted. Stan smiled.

_Broken toy soldier, you just need a little glue,_

_Broken toy soldier, just take a look at you!_

_Fixed up little soldier, every day has its dawn,_

_Fixed up little soldier, keep marching on._

---------------

Draik: D'aawwwww. And, it ends. I really hope you guys enjoyed this thang.

Kenny: I sure as hell got killed a lot.

Draik: Yush you did! *ruffles hair* How kyut!

Kyle: Blargh! Get off that, it's mine now, apparently! *tackles*

Stan: Nuuu! I'm still here! *runs after Kyle*

Kenny: Back off, Stan! You got killed! Killed _dead!_ I called him! *wields broom dangerously*

Stan: DEAR GOD BROOM OH NOES *asplodes*

Draik: Um… I'm gonna go ahead and blame Mountain Dew and Kit-Kats for this, okay?

Ike: How come I don't get to be in these things!?!? AND WHY CAN'T I SAY HELL.

Kyle: Ike! Don't say Hell.

Ike: ARGH.

Kenny: Duh, you're in it _right now_.

Ike: Huh.

Draik: Okay, that's it. I'm finished. Kapoot. Done. No more!

Cartman: Rawr.

Draik: No! No sequel for you, go away! *shoos* I'm finished!

Draik: So, in conclusion: Story finished, you awesome, me hungry, and Kenny explosively epic.

Kenny: Eh? Hooray!

**THANK YOU FOR READING. YOU ARE AWESOME. :)**


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